The Divine Right of Kings
by Vinsmouse
Summary: How will the Hardys deal with the consequences when their home is invaded by criminals? Joe is 14 and Frank 16 in this story. Contains violence and child abuse.
1. Chapter 1

The Divine Right of Kings by: Vinsmouse

Summary: How will the Hardy's deal with the consequences when their home is invaded by criminals? Story takes place when the boys are 14 and 16, I'm assuming there's more like 14-18 months between the boys rather than an exact year.

FRT

Warnings: Violence; child abuse; angst

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Chapter 1

That summer day had started as many of them did. Joe slept as late as his mother and the sun would allow. Still wearing pajamas he stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal and glass of juice later sleepy blue eyes were open wide, sparkling with life. "Hey mom, is Frank still here?"

Laura smiled at her youngest son. In spite of seeing it every day, she was always amazed by her son's process of waking. "He's in his room. I think he said something about doing some research."

"Research? Doesn't he know it's summer?" Joe was incredulous.

Laura chuckled, Joe was certainly predictable sometimes. "I'm pretty sure he knows, but maybe you should remind him.."

Joe nodded as he pushed away from the table. He had only taken a couple of steps when a knock at the back door drew his attention.

"Go on upstairs Joe, I've got it," Laura said as she intercepted him. With a smile she pulled the door open. "Yes can I..." She gasped as a gun was shoved into her stomach. A second man pushed past a stunned Laura, grabbing Joe and shoving a gun in his face.

Joe turned at his mother's gasp. He had just registered the fact that the man at the door was holding a gun when a second man rushed into the house. He stared at the gun, his eyes wide with terror. Joe, along with his brother, wanted to be a detective someday. They had even solved a couple of small cases already, but at the end of the day he was only a fourteen year old boy.

"Don't move. Don't make a sound."

Joe, if he could have spoken, would have told the man neither order was needed at the moment. He couldn't speak, his vocal cords as frozen as his body.

"Is there anybody else in the house?" he quietly asked. With no answer forthcoming, the man turned to Laura, now standing near the table, his partner keeping a gun trained on her.

Laura shook her head. Silently she prayed that Frank would hear the strange voices and go get help.

"Sit down." Laura sat, though every nerve in her body wanted to run to her son, pulling him away from the man and his gun. She didn't though. Having been married to Fenton for seventeen years, she had learned that one had to wait for the right chance as there might only be one. Sitting quietly she began to take note of what she was seeing. The large man currently tying her hands behind her, stood at least 6' 2" with bright red hair and brown eyes. His only remarkable feature was a rather large mustache, worn in the style of an old west cowboy. The other man was even more ordinary looking. Of average height, his dark brown hair was slightly long without being overly so. Behind a pair of black rimmed glasses were the calmest blue eyes she'd ever seen. As Joe was being moved into a chair, Red gagged her. Using only her eyes she did her best to comfort her son as he too was tied and gagged.

"Keep an eye on these two," Blue eyes said. "I'm going to go check out the rest of the house." Having already turned away, he missed the look traded between Joe and Laura. Moving quietly, he searched through the downstairs. He wasn't surprised to find it empty. Anybody on the first floor would have certainly heard his questions, with the result that they would have ran or attempted a rescue.

Carefully he moved up the stairs, being sure to make no sound. In the upstairs hall, he paused, listening for any telltale noises. Within seconds he heard a tapping sound, like somebody using a keyboard, coming from one of the rooms. Throwing open the door, he aimed his gun at the only occupant.

Frank looked up as the door opened. Pushing himself to his feet, he confronted the man who had invaded his room. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I want honesty and cooperation, as to who I am...you don't need to know that." He was met with swift resistance as he grabbed the boy's arm. "The blond boy downstairs and the woman, your brother and mother?"

"If you've hurt them..."

"They're fine," he interrupted the oncoming threat. "If you want them to stay that way, you'll do what you're told. Understand?"

Frank nodded.

"Good. Now we're going to search the rest of these rooms and then we'll go back downstairs. If you try anything my partner will make sure your family pays the price. Lead the way...what is your name anyway?"

Swallowing back his anger, he forced himself to provide the answer. "There isn't anybody else up here." He didn't want to help the man, but he was anxious to see his mother and brother, to assure himself that they were unharmed.

Blue eyes snorted. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you but I've already been lied to once." He motioned the boy to start walking. In only a few minutes the circuit of the upstairs was complete and they were moving back to the first floor.

Frank couldn't hold back the relieved sigh as he took in the sight of his family. They were tied and gagged, clearly frightened, but otherwise they hadn't been hurt.

"Sit down Frank," Blue eyes ordered.

Going up against two armed men would be suicide; Frank sat. Working quickly, Red had him tied in only seconds, but as he reached for a gag Blue eyes shook his head.

Blue eyes moved over to the blond. He could feel the eyes of Frank and his mother boring into his back as he squatted in front of the younger boy, putting him at eye level.

"Leave him alone," Frank growled as the man reached for Joe. He visibly flinched when the blue eyes turned to stare at him. There was no anger, only a calm coldness that scared him more than any anger could have done.

"Quiet or you will be gagged." Turning back to the blond, he reached for the gag, pulling it down and leaving it to hang at the boy's throat. "What's your name?" No answer and his hand came up to lay on the boy's cheek. He smiled grimly when the boy flinched. "Tell me your name."

He swallowed in a too dry throat, desperately trying to find the moisture so he could answer the question. "Joe," he finally managed in a small whisper.

"Sir."

"Huh?"

"I'm an adult Joey, you're a child. Children should respect their elders, call me sir," he calmly ordered. "I have some questions for you Joey, will you answer them for me?"

Nobody had called him Joey in years, but he didn't dare object. He looked towards his mother and Frank. Seeing a small nod from his mom, he gave one of his own.

Blue eyes smiled. "Did your parents teach you to be honest?"

"Yes." A stern look and he flinched. "Yes sir," he quickly corrected.

"If you lie to them, do they punish you?"

Joe wasn't sure why these questions were being asked, but he didn't think he would like the reason. "Yes sir," he fearfully replied. He shivered when the man turned to stare at his mother. "Don't hurt her, please," he pleaded. He had suddenly realized why he had asked those questions.

The man reached towards Joe, as if to caress his cheek. The sudden slap sounded loud in the silent kitchen. "You forgot to say sir," he calmly explained.

Joe blinked rapidly, determined not to cry in front of this man. "Don't hurt her sir, please."

The man smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "Have you ever heard of the Divine Right of Kings Joe?"

Joe stared, what?

"Answer me," blue eyes snapped the command.

"Um, I think I remember it from History class sir."

"Tell me what you remember."

Joe glanced at Frank. He could see his older brother was as confused as he was. "They, kings I mean, were appointed by God and only had to answer to him...sir."

The smile was more genuine this time. "Very good Joey," he praised, much as a teacher would a prized student. "I'm going to tell you something that you might not have learned in History class. You see Joe, this Divine Right meant that an ordinary person couldn't punish a king, or a future king for that matter. Therefore during the Stuart and Tudor monarchies a post was created at court, that of the Whipping Boy. The Whipping Boy was a companion to the young Prince. They spent their days together, studying, playing, much like any two friends or brothers might. Are you with me so far Joe?"

"Yyes sir," Joe nervously answered.

"Good," he smiled. "There was one important difference between the two, however, and that was what would happen if the Prince misbehaved. This was when the Whipping Boy would fulfill his role at court, taking the young Prince's rightful punishment. The idea was that the Prince would be punished by seeing somebody he cared about hurt due to his actions." Standing up, he moved behind Joe, quickly releasing him from his ropes. "Stand up," he ordered as he jerked him to his feet. Pushing him to the table, he ignored the calls of the older boy as he shoved Joe down so that his upper body rested on the kitchen table. "Grip the sides of the table Joe and don't move," he coldly ordered.

Shaking with fear, Joe reluctantly did as he was told. He listened in terror as the man explained to his mother and Frank what was going to happen.

"I'm sure you've figured out what happens next, haven't you mom?" The blue eyes smirked as the blonde woman shakily nodded. "While we're here young Joe will be our whipping boy. Every time one of you lies to us, disobeys an order, speaks with disrespect or tries to escape, he will take your punishment." Turning away, he bent over the table, placing his mouth next to Joe's ear. "I'm sorry Joey, I don't want to hurt you but they have to learn," he apologized in a voice only the boy could hear.

Joe breathed deeply, trying and failing to calm himself as the weight was removed from his back. Every sound was magnified in the horrified silence filling the room. Then over the normal sounds, the ticking of the clock, the hum of the refrigerator, he heard a sound that froze his blood; the swish of a belt being pulled through loops.

His back erupted in fire as the belt lashed against him, the thin pajama top offering no protection. Joe bit his lip. He didn't want to cry out, his teenaged dignity recoiling at the thought of giving into the pain. It was a futile effort, as he'd known it would be. The ordinary sounds of the homey kitchen were soon hidden by the sobs coming from the youngest Hardy. He didn't know how much more he could take, he was sure he would pass out any minute. The thought had barely passed through his mind when the lashes ended. Joe wasn't aware of anything but the sticky feeling of his bloody shirt and the sound of his breathing as he did his best to ride out the pain.

Suddenly he was pulled to his feet, his arms once more being tied behind him. He paled as words of praise sounded in his ear, the whisper too low for anybody else to hear. How could he talk to him like that, almost like he was his father?

"You did very well Joey. I'm proud of you. Let's just hope a repeat won't be needed." Squeezing his arm in a comforting gesture, he led the boy over to his mother. Pushing him to his knees, he tied Joe's ankles together. "I won't make you sit in a chair, I know it would be painful right now." He frowned. Reaching down, he jerked the boy's hair, pulling his head back until he could see his eyes. "I'm sure you were taught proper manners Joe."

Joe gasped as his head was forced back. Swallowing hard, he nodded as best he could with the man's hand gripping his hair. "I'm sorry...thank you sir," he forced out in a dry whisper. He nearly lost his balance when Blue eyes shoved his head forward, releasing his hair at the same time.

"Keep your eyes on the floor unless I tell you otherwise," he coldly ordered.

Joe nodded. He was actually relieved to have an excuse not to look into the eyes of his family. He was having a hard enough time holding himself together, if he saw their fear and pain he was sure he'd lose it.

Frank glared at the man who had hurt his brother. Only the thought of what he might do to Joe kept him from voicing the anger and hatred he was feeling. "What do you want with us?" The sixteen year old had never tried to negotiate with a criminal before, but finding out what they wanted seemed like a good starting point.

Blue eyes frowned at the boy. Stepping over to Joe, he jerked his head back and slapped his face hard enough to bruise. "What did I tell you about disrespect Frank?" he asked the older boy.

It had happened so fast that Frank didn't even have time to protest. "I'm sorry sir, I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean any disrespect," he softly apologized.

"Apology accepted," Blue eyes said, releasing his hold on Joe. "Now what was your question?"

Frank licked his lips. He'd never been so nervous in his life. "What do you want with us sir?" he asked, forcing himself to remain polite.

Blue eyes smiled. "Much better Frank and to answer your question, we just want a place to stay until later tonight. If you," he continued, his eyes scanning over them all, "behave then we will leave you in peace. If not, well let's just say you won't like the consequences." Stepping behind the chairs, he removed the gag from the woman before motioning for his partner to join him near the back door.

"What are we really gonna do with them?" Red asked, his voice just loud enough for their prisoners to hear if they were listening.

"I'm wounded Red, do you think I lied to Frank?"

Red looked between the family and his partner, confusion washing over his face. "You mean we're really gonna just leave them here?"

"As long as they behave. Look Red, killing them won't do us any good, in fact it'll make things worse for us."

Red nodded, "Guess the cops would try harder to find us, wouldn't they? Hey Alex, you gonna let me play?" he asked. His eyes were shining with anticipation as he let them roam over the two boys.

Alex sighed, "We'll see Red, we'll see."

On the other side of the room, Laura and Frank were leaning forward as far as their bonds would allow. "I'm so sorry Joey," Laura whispered. "If I had known he would hurt you I wouldn't have lied to him."

"Are you okay Joe?" Frank softly asked. He exchanged a concerned look with his mother when Joe only nodded, never looking up. "Please look at us Joe," he plead. He couldn't explain it to himself, Frank just knew that he needed to look his brother in the eye.

Joe shook his head. He wanted to look up, wanted to see the love and concern he could hear in both their voices. Yet, he didn't dare to disobey Blue eyes. As bad as the earlier punishment had been, he couldn't imagine how bad it would be if he were being punished for his own disobedience.

Frank jerked as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Do you resent your brother Frank?"

"What?" Frank was shocked that such a question would even be asked. "Of course I don't."

Alex sighed, "Then why are you trying to convince him to disobey me?"

"I wasn't."

"You heard me tell him to look only at the floor unless I told him otherwise, yet here you are telling him to look at you. How is that not asking him to disobey me?" He moved to where Joe kneeled on the floor. Grabbing a handful of hair, he jerked his head back. "Then you compound it by being disrespectful. You will show me respect," he ordered, each word punctuated with a slap to Joe's face, first one cheek and then the other.

"Please stop sir, please. I didn't mean to be disrespectful or to make Joe disobey you. I forgot, I swear I just forgot sir. Please don't hurt him anymore," Frank begged as tears fell from his dark eyes.

Alex released Joe. "Don't forget again," he growled.

"I won't, I promise I won't sir," Frank cried.

TBC...

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The doorbell sounded. Alex turned to Laura. "Are you expecting somebody?"

She shook her head.

Alex released the ropes holding her to the chair. "Watch them," he ordered his partner as he led Laura from the room. "Don't try anything stupid," he warned.

Laura nodded to show she had understood. Rubbing her arm, she moved to the door, and pulled it open. She was surprised to see Phil Cohen, a friend of the boys, standing on the porch. "Oh Phil, I forgot you were coming to collect for the paper today. I'm sorry but I don't have any cash, will a check be okay?" Phil, bless him, quickly caught on to the fact that something was wrong.

"Yes ma'am, a check will be fine."

"Just a minute." Shutting the door, she moved to her purse and took out her checkbook. Doing her best to ignore the man standing next to the door, watching her, she hastily wrote on the check.

Alex shook his head in bemusement. Apparently this woman thought he was stupid. As she returned with the check, he jerked it from her hand. "What's this?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous as he read the note she had written. "Two men in house with guns, call police," he read aloud. "Open the door and tell him to come inside...now," he snapped when she hesitated.

With shaking hands, Laura opened the door. "Could you come inside for a minute Phil?"

"Actually I don't really have time. I've got..."

"Make time," Alex interrupted, stepping into view and pointing the gun at Phil.

Phil swallowed hard. "Yes sir," he managed as he stepped inside.

Alex grinned. "I like you Phil, you know how to show respect. Go on into the kitchen," he told them, motioning with his gun.

"I'm sorry Phil," Laura apologized. She felt awful for dragging Phil into this. Worse was knowing what her actions would mean for her youngest son. She should have just told him that the boys weren't home and let him leave. How could she not try though? These men might well kill them all before they left, after all they could identify them. Knowing of this possibility Laura didn't see how she could have ignored any opportunity for help or escape that appeared.

"It's alright Mrs. Hardy. I would have done the same thing," Phil quietly absolved her of blame.

"Who the hell is he?" Red demanded as the three of them entered the kitchen.

"Well he isn't the paper boy," Alex replied. "Have a seat Phil," he ordered. "Tie them up and make some sandwiches or something, Joe and I need to have a talk." As he spoke he cut Joe's ankles loose and pulled him to his feet.

"No! Please don't hurt him," Laura cried out.

Alex ignored her, leading a confused Joe from the kitchen and into the living room. Pushing him onto the couch, he sat beside him. "Tell me Joey, do you think your mother is a good mother?"

"She's the best sir," Joe replied with conviction.

"Is she?"

"Yes sir," was the confident reply.

"A good mother would protect her children, wouldn't she Joey?"

Joe nodded.

"Then why did your good mother, the best mother you tell me, why did she disobey my orders?" Alex demanded.

"Sir?"

"Who is Phil?"

Joe was having a hard time following the man's train of thought. "He's a friend of ours, more Frank's than mine sir."

"I guessed it was something like that," Alex mumbled. "Your mother tried to pass him off as the paper boy and said she needed to write him a check. This check," he added, holding the offending paper in front of the boy.

Joe swallowed hard. Now he understood why he'd been asked those questions. He flinched as Blue eyes softly stroked his hair.

"I don't want to hurt you Joey, I really don't."

"Then don't sir." In his young mind the solution was simple.

Alex smiled sadly. "You know I can't do that Joey. I told your mother and brother what would happen if they tried anything. I'm just sorry that your mother doesn't care enough about you..."

"She does care, she does," Joe cried out, quickly coming to his mother's defense. The slap didn't surprise him, but he wouldn't apologize for what he'd said.

"Respect Joey, respect." Alex sighed, "She certainly has a strange way of showing it."

"Wouldn't you try to get help sir, if you were her?"

Alex smiled tightly. "Not if it meant someone I loved would be harmed." Of course since he didn't love anybody it wouldn't have been an issue for him. "I really do regret this idea," Alex admitted, his hand once more stroking the boy's hair. "To be honest with you Joey I never thought I'd need to punish you more than once. I fully expected your family to be slavishly obedient after they witnessed your first punishment." He was careful to allow real regret to be heard in his voice.

"Yes sir," Joe uncertainly mumbled. He could hear the regret but he had no idea what he was supposed to say. Did the man expect him to absolve him of his guilt, to comfort him?

Alex turned towards the kitchen door, his eyes traveling from it to Joe and back again. "You know Joey I don't think I am going to punish you after all. No," he shook his head, "it really isn't fair. Your mother will just have to take the punishment she deserves for her disobedience."

"No," Joe cried out. "Please sir don't hurt her." A cold shiver traveled the length of his back at the thought of his mother suffering as he had. Ignoring him, the blue eyed man stood. Pushing himself forward, Joe landed painfully on his knees in front of him. "Please don't sir, please ppunish me instead," he softly stuttered.

Alex blinked. Pleas for mercy he had expected, threats too if he were honest, but this...the boy offering himself as a sacrifice was truly a surprise. "You really mean that don't you Joey?"

Joe could tell he had surprised the man, wisely he didn't mention it. "Yes sir."

"Alex."

"What? I don't understand sir."

Alex wasn't surprised he had confused the boy. "You can call me Alex when we're alone, but you still must call me sir in the presence of others. Understand?"

Joe nodded, though Alex's words confused him more than ever.

"I would like a verbal response Joey, nods are rude, don't you think?"

Joe nodded, "Um, I mean...yes Alex I guess so." He flinched as the man's hand came down upon his head, once more stroking through his hair. The action reminding him of when he was younger and his father would come into his room to say goodnight. Giving a mental shake, he reminded himself that this man was a criminal. It was because of Alex that Joe's back was covered in bloody welts, more to be added in a few minutes. He wasn't a kind man, nor did he care for Joe in the slightest.

"Are you sure you want the punishment Joey?" Alex asked, petting Joe's hair. "Even you, as much as you obviously love your mother, must admit she deserves to be punished."

"I don't want to see her hurt Alex...please," Joe begged, looking up at the man with tear filled eyes. A hand at his elbow pulled him to his feet, the other hand coming to rest on his chin, tilting his head back. Alex stared into his eyes, looking for what Joe didn't know. He could feel his face growing hot as those calm blue eyes stared into his and then to his surprise warm lips were brushing over his forehead.

"You're a good boy Joey, better than your mother deserves." Alex smiled grimly as he released the boy's chin. He could see the emotions and thoughts warring for dominance on Joe's face, confusion winning out in the end. "Alright," he sighed, "let's get this over with." Keeping a grip on Joe's elbow he propelled him into the kitchen, not stopping until the boy stood at the end of the table. Quickly untying his hands, he ignored the cries of Joe's family until the young blond was once more lying across the tabletop. "Did you explain things to Phil?" he coldly asked Laura.

"Frank explained it sir," Phil replied. He had been horrified when Frank had told him what had happened before his arrival. Mrs. Hardy had been too distraught to say anything, sobbing quietly beside them. He remembered reading about the Divine Right of Kings and the post of Whipping Boy that had resulted from it. He couldn't believe a common criminal would even know of it, never mind using it as a weapon against an innocent kid.

Alex studied the teen. He could practically feel the disapproval rolling off of him in waves. "Don't approve Phil?"

"No sir," Phil replied, carefully keeping his tone quiet and respectful.

Alex shrugged and without another word turned back to Joe. Drawing his arm back he let the already bloody belt come down on the boy's back. Again and again the belt fell, the air again filled with the sounds of the boy's sobs as his skin was once more ripped apart in punishment of his mother's sins.

Laura closed her eyes, wishing she could block out the sounds as well. Each sob cut through her. She wanted to protest but feared what it would mean for Joe if she did. God why didn't I think of that sooner, she asked herself? If only she could turn back the clock. She should never have tried passing a message to Phil.

TBC...

Please feed the muse with reviews.

A/N: No the chapters aren't going to be filled with nothing but scenes of whipping Joe. In fact, I don't think I'm giving anything away when I say the next chapter won't contain any violence directed at Joe.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The punishment seemed, to Joe, as if it would never end. He was grateful when the blows finally stopped. Offering no resistance he let himself be pulled away from the table until he was once more standing. He was vaguely aware of the sound of his mother crying and though he didn't blame her he couldn't bring himself to look at her.

Expecting his hands to be tied once more Joe was surprised when Alex's hand gently gripped his left arm. "Sir?" he quietly asked, voicing every bit of his confusion in the word.

"Come with me Joey," Alex instructed as he led the boy from the room.

Laura and Frank exchanged worried glances as they watched Joe leave the room with blue eyes. The leering grin on Red's face did nothing to quell their fears for the youngest Hardy.

Towering over the blond, Alex allowed a satisfied smile to play across his face. This one was proving to be the most fun he'd ever had. As he helped Joe to stretch out on the couch on his belly, the smirk was quickly replaced with regret and concern. "Stay there," he ordered.

"Yes sir," Joe whispered. He heard Alex's footsteps as he moved up the stairs. Joe thought about making a run for it, or calling 911, but then he remembered the others tied up in the kitchen. If he did either of those things Alex and Red would likely hurt his family. He wasn't worried about what they'd do to him, he was already hurt, but he hated the thought of anybody else getting hurt, particularly his mother.

Alex leisurely made his way to the second story and into the bathroom. It only took a quick search and he had found a first-aid kit. Retrieving it and wetting a wash cloth, he headed back down the stairs. He had purposely taken his time, giving Joe the chance to make a break for it or to call for help. It wasn't enough time to succeed, just enough for the chance. Wondering where he would find the boy, he was gratified to see him still lying on the couch.

Alex knelt next to the couch. "Joey, I need to take your shirt off now," he quietly told the boy. "Do you think you can sit up for a minute?"

"Yes sir," Joe replied. With Alex's help he was soon sitting up and his shirt, or what was left of it, was being removed.

"I thought I told you to call me Alex."

"I'm sorry Alex, I forgot," Joe apologized. He was afraid if he didn't there would be more punishment.

"It's alright Joey," Alex assured him. "Okay, let's get you lying down again and I'll clean your back up some."

"I don't understand Alex. Why are you being so nice?"

Alex frowned. "You don't want me to take care of you?"

Joe shivered at the steel in the man's voice. "I didn't mean that Alex. I'm just confused," he admitted. The last thing he wanted was to make the man angry.

"I suppose that's reasonable," Alex conceded. "Come on now and lie down," he said again. Helping Joe to find a somewhat comfortable position he went to work in cleaning and medicating his back. "It's really very simple Joey. I feel guilty. It was my idea to make you the whipping boy. I admit I never dreamed I'd need to administer more than one punishment. Still I should have considered it. If I had I'm not sure I would have used the idea. I can't go back on my word though. If I do that, your mother and brother won't learn anything, don't you agree?"

Joe thought it over. "I guess so." He didn't want to agree but he could see that what Alex said made a twisted sort of sense.

"The need to adhere to my word, however, doesn't mean I can't treat your wounds afterwards."

"Thank you Alex," Joe said sincerely grateful for the kindness.

"You're very welcome pet," Alex smiled sadly.

Joe frowned; the man's words made him feel uncomfortable for some reason. "May I ask you something Alex?" he said as Alex pushed himself to his feet.

Alex squatted next to the couch once more. "What is it Joey?"

"Why didn't you just treat me in the kitchen? I mean your partner could have kept an eye on me while you got the first-aid kit. Were you that sure I wouldn't try to get help?" Joe winced, realizing belatedly that he might have gone too far. "I didn't try Alex, I swear…"

"But you thought about it?" Alex asked, his voice deliberately laced with disappointment.

"Yes sir," Joe reluctantly admitted. "I didn't do anything though," he fearfully added.

Alex chuckled. "Don't worry Joey, I'm not going to punish you for what you thought about doing. To answer your question, I didn't consider that you would try to escape. My only consideration was that you would be more comfortable on the couch and it would be easier to treat you if you were lying down. I didn't think you'd want to lie on the kitchen table." He nodded when Joe shuddered. "That's what I thought. Any more questions pet?"

"No sir." Joe was more confused than ever.

Alex pushed himself back to his feet. He didn't waste any time in returning the kit to the bathroom, dropping the wash cloth in the hamper. When he returned to the living room he found Joe in the same spot he'd left him in. He smirked when he saw the boy sleeping. It certainly hadn't taken the topical sedative long to work this time. Ignoring the boy for now he moved through the dining room to the kitchen door. Pushing the door open he glanced into the room. "Hey man bring those sandwiches into the living room."

"What about them?" Red asked, nodding to their other captives.

"I've got them," Alex replied. Moving into the kitchen he released them from the chairs, motioning for them to stand up. "Into the living room," he coldly ordered.

No arguments were offered, though Frank did aim a glare towards their captors. They knew Joe was in the living room and they were all anxious to make sure he hadn't been hurt any further. The surprise they felt when they saw the boy was impossible to mask.

Red smirked. "Have fun man?" he asked as he leered at the half naked boy sleeping on the couch.

Alex returned the smirk, licking his lips. "Don't I always?"

"You sick bastard!" Frank growled, lunging in the brunette's direction. A hand in his hair brought him up short.

Red forced the boy to the floor. "Can I play with Joey next?" He pretended to recoil at the glare Alex shot his way.

Alex bent down so that he could look Frank in the eye. "Is that what you want Frank? Do you want me to allow Red some playtime?" The boy could only shake his head, the horrified look on his face saying more than any words could. "Then I suggest you behave yourself. It's only my compassionate nature that is preventing me from punishing Joe again for your disrespect. Next time I won't be so lenient, do I make myself clear?"

Frank nodded.

"I can't hear you boy," Alex snapped.

"Yes sir, clear sir," Frank managed through dry lips.

"Much better," Alex praised. "Now you, all of you," he added looking at Laura and Phil, "sit quietly and we won't have any more trouble." Picking up a sandwich, he moved to sit on the couch with Joe, the boy's head almost touching his leg. "We need something to wash these down with," he told his partner.

Understanding the implied order, Red went to the kitchen, returning in less than a minute with two cold sodas. Handing one to Alex, he moved to sit in a comfortable looking recliner. He smirked as Alex began to absently pet Joe's hair while he ate his lunch. He could see the disgust and hatred on the faces of the boy's family. A thrill of pleasure shot through him as he thought about the reactions that would occur later in the game.

TBC...

Please feed the muse with reviews.

_A/N: The topical sedative is modeled on dmso which can not only penetrate the skin, it can also carry other drugs with it, such as morphine. As far as I know there is no actual topical sedative._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Please ignore the last chapter 4. I don't know whether I selected the wrong document or the site messed up but that obviously wasn't the right story. This is the correct chapter 4. Sorry about that.

Chapter 4

Edith Cohen glanced at the clock, her concern growing as she saw it was nearly six o'clock. Phil knew dinner was served promptly at six. While he sometimes missed dinner he always called to inform her. Her son knew she worried, especially after his father's death, he wouldn't worry her needlessly. Picking up the phone she dialed her son's cell phone. Her concern only increased as the phone went to voice mail. Should she call the police? As Phil was a minor she knew the normal 24 hour waiting period would be waived, but it wasn't very late. Perhaps she was being silly? The clock chimed.

"Edith, I'm not late am I?"

Edith turned towards her brother Paul. He had come to stay with her after Henry's death. Finding Bayport to his liking, he had set up a law practice and settled down. Though he had his own home he often came for dinner with his sister and nephew. "No dear, not at all," she absently replied, glancing once more at the clock.

Paul frowned. "Is something wrong?" It wasn't difficult to see that Edith was worried.

"I don't really know," Edith answered. "Phil isn't home and his phone went to voice mail."

"He's probably just running behind schedule," Paul tried to reassure her. His sister had always been a worrier; she had only grown worse after Henry's death.

"I suppose."

Paul could see she wasn't really convinced. "What if I…"

"I think I'll just phone the Hardy's, he said he might go over there," Edith interrupted him.

Laura was in the kitchen fixing supper while Red stood watch over her. Blue eyes had remained in the living room with the boys. Seeing the sharp knives in the butcher block she was tempted to attack Red. No, she couldn't risk it. If she failed in freeing them from these men Joe would suffer the consequences. Laura shuddered, remembering the way Blue eyes kept stroking her son, his hair, his arm. She was terrified as she considered what it might mean. It hadn't escaped her notice that Joe flinched each time the man touched him. Her fear for her son grew with each touch, each flinch.

The phone rang, Laura jumped.

Blue eyes suddenly appeared in the kitchen door. "Answer it, don't try anything stupid."

"I won't," Laura promised. Hurrying to the phone she picked up the receiver. "Hello. Oh hello Edith," she answered brightly, doing her best to sound normal. "No dear, I'm afraid Phil isn't here." She listened for a moment. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about Edith. He probably just lost track of time. Of course dear, if I see him I'll tell him to come straight home. Good-bye."

"Very good Laura," Blue eyes praised. "Is supper almost ready?"

"Yes, in a few minutes."

"Bring it into the living room when it's done, we'll eat there."

Laura nodded. Turning away, she moved back to the counter and the hamburgers she was putting the finishing touches on. Blue eyes had dictated the menu, burgers and fries. She suspected he wanted them to have no need for silverware, thereby depriving them of weapons. Plates ready, she began carrying them to the living room. Blue eyes untied the boys when the first plates arrived. Several trips later prisoners and intruders alike were enjoying their food and sodas.

Red frowned. Picking up his soda he returned to the kitchen, coming back a minute later with a glass of tea.

"Are you boys alright?" Laura quietly asked Frank and Phil. She wanted, more than anything, to ask the same question of Joe, but he was being kept next to Blue eyes, making conversation impossible.

"We're fine mom," Frank assured her. Phil nodded in agreement.

"Joe?" she asked her eldest.

Frank glared. "That jerk keeps touching him." It had been torture for Frank as he was forced to watch, helpless to keep the man away from his brother. Every time Joe flinched he wanted to beat the man to a pulp. Tied and facing armed intruders, there was nothing he could do to protect his little brother. Now he was untied but both men were in the room, both with guns and entirely too close to Joe.

Alex and Red exchanged amused glances. Seeing their concern for the blond, knowing what they feared, was just the sort of entertainment the two men enjoyed.

Alex moved his hand, bringing it up to run through Joe's hair. "Are you enjoying your burger pet?" he softly asked, though not so softly the others couldn't hear. He smiled as the boy shuddered. Joe was clearly uncomfortable with his touch. Alex wasn't offended; he knew that would soon change.

"Yes sir," Joe quietly replied. He didn't understand why the man spoke to him like he did. Nor did he understand the gentle touches. Joe only knew he didn't like either one. Doing his best to ignore Alex he continued eating.

Soon everybody was done and Red was retying Laura and the boys, with the exception of Joe. Alex hadn't allowed him to be retied since the second whipping. An hour after supper Alex grabbed his stomach.

"You stupid bitch," he snarled in Laura's direction. "Watch them Red," he ordered as he jumped to his feet. Hurrying from the room he nearly ran up the stairs to the bathroom.

Red grinned as Alex disappeared up the steps. Moving to the couch, he pulled Joe to his feet. "Not a word," he warned them all. Gripping the boy's arm tightly he pulled him towards the kitchen.

Frank stared at his mother in disbelief. "What did you do Mom?"

Laura shook her head. "I didn't do anything, I swear. I wouldn't do anything to make them hurt Joe again." It hurt that her son thought she would. She couldn't blame him, however, not after her earlier attempt when Phil had arrived.

"Um, Frank," Phil spoke up from beside his friend. "If we could get loose before they come back maybe we could overpower them," he suggested.

Frank nodded. He would worry later about what his mother had or hadn't done.

Joe was shaking by the time they entered the kitchen. He didn't know what his mom had done but he knew he would pay for it. Joe had a bad feeling that the punishment that Red came up with would be worse than what Alex had done. Expecting to be led to the table, Joe gasped in surprise and pain as he was shoved against the wall.

"I'm going to have fun with you boy," Red leered. He took a pocket knife from his jeans, opening it with one hand. Pulling back enough to maneuver, he drew the knife across Joe's chest, making a shallow cut. A thrill of anticipation ran through him as the child cried out. Leaning forward he swiped his tongue along the cut, enjoying the shudders running through the body he was pinning. "You taste delicious baby boy," he told the child in a leering tone.

"Please stop," Joe pleaded in a fear filled voice. "Please."

Laura, Frank and Phil listening from the living room were horrified. They couldn't hear everything but what they could hear was chilling them to the bone. Heeding Phil's suggestion, they had begun to struggle in earnest to free themselves from the ropes keeping them prisoner. It was to no avail.

Red chuckled. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "I like to hear you beg," he purred. "Beg some more," he ordered as he made another cut. Once more he swiped the blood with his tongue. He leered as the child begged for mercy. Ignoring the pleading, he made another cut and another, each one lower than the next as he moved towards his ultimate goal. Excited he pushed himself against the boy, reveling in the fearful sounds the blond was making.

Joe struggled to get free from Red's hold. It was useless, the man was too strong. He begged, pleading with him to stop. It was no use. The cuts continued, each followed by the swipe of Red's tongue. Joe wanted to be sick. When he felt the man pressing against him he was sure he would be. Suddenly the weight pinning him to the wall disappeared.

"You son of a bitch," Alex cursed as he pulled Red away from Joe. "He's not for you, understand?" he growled the question.

Red gulped for effect. "Yeah, sure Alex," Red stuttered. "I didn't know you'd mind," he added.

Alex glared. "Well now you know. Go take care of the others, you've done enough here."

Red left the room without another word.

Laura and the boys glared at Red. Though relieved that he was away from Joe they couldn't help their disappointment at their failure to free themselves. They didn't know if they would have another chance.

"What did you do to my brother?" Frank demanded.

"Frank," Phil whispered a warning to remind his friend of the consequences if he made these men angry.

Red's only response was a feral grin.

Alex turned around to see Joe, arms wrapped around himself, shaking violently. "Joey?" he softly called as he stepped closer to the boy. He wasn't surprised at the flinch. He knew if there hadn't been a wall behind him the child would have backed away from him.

"I won't hurt you Joey," he assured the boy. Moving slowly he closed the distance between them. Wrapping his arms around the young teen he felt a flinch. He began to rub the boy's back, whispering soothing words to him. Suddenly the boy collapsed against him, sobbing his fear and revulsion into Alex's chest. "Shhhh, you're okay now pet," Alex soothed. He smiled in satisfaction, the game was moving along perfectly.

Joe could hardly believe the safe feeling he had as Alex's arms wrapped around him. He didn't understand any of this. Why was he letting Alex comfort him? He'd only thought he'd been afraid earlier. Now…now he knew what real fear was.

"I'm sorry Red did that to you Joey," Alex softly apologized.

"Not your fault," Joe whispered. "It was…" he pulled away form Alex. "Are you going to punish me now?" he asked, looking down at the floor.

"Punish…" Alex broke off as he realized what Joe meant. He shook his head. "I think Red has punished you more than enough. You ready to go back?" he asked.

"Do I have to?" He didn't want to see his family right now. Joe was sure they would know what had nearly happened. He flushed, a feeling of shame washing through him. The shame was quickly followed by anger. If his mother hadn't tried whatever she'd done, spiked their food he guessed, Red wouldn't have had the chance to hurt him.

"I guess we can wait a few minutes," Alex decided. "Come here," he whispered, once more wrapping his arms around the boy.

TBC...

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When seven o'clock came around with no word from Phil, Edith made the decision to call the police. Her brother had suggested that she wait a little while longer, but Edith wouldn't be dissuaded.

"Bayport Police Department, Officer Riley speaking."

"I need to report a missing person officer," Edith spoke clearly, hiding her fear.

"Yes ma'am," Con replied. "How long has the person been missing?"

"Only a few hours…"

"Ma'am I'm sorry but we can't file an official report until a person is missing for 24 hours."

"My son is only sixteen officer," Edith responded in a cold voice, bristling at being interrupted.

Con smiled, this wasn't the first over protective mother he had dealt with. "I'm sure he only forgot the time ma'am."

"Do not be condescending officer," Edith reprimanded the man on the other end of the phone. "Phil wouldn't worry me like this. He always comes home on time and if for some reason he can't he calls. Now when I tried to phone him his cell phone went straight to voice mail. Furthermore when I phoned the Hardy's their mother said she hadn't seen Phil all day. This is after he distinctly told me he was going to Frank Hardy's home to work on a project."

Hearing the name Hardy brought Con to attention. Every cop on the force knew that Fenton Hardy was a detective and had formerly been with the NYPD. "I'm sorry ma'am," he apologized sincerely. "If I could get some information from you we'll begin looking for your son." He spent a few more minutes getting a description of the missing boy along with his car, including plate number. Thanking Mrs. Cohen he once more promised the search would begin immediately.

After filling in the Chief, Con Riley left the police department to begin searching. Knowing the boys sometimes fell into cases on their own, he and Chief Collig had decided it would be best if they kept the search somewhat informal, at least until he could talk to the Hardy boys directly. That was where he was heading now.

"I need to get the first aid kit again," Alex decided after a few minutes.

"There's one in the cabinet," Joe told him. He didn't want to be left alone with Red.

"Sit down," he instructed the boy as he moved to the cabinet. Pulling another chair around he sat down, facing Joe. "It doesn't look like any of the cuts are very deep," he commented as he started to wash away the blood. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt a bit," he warned as he moved on to disinfecting the cuts. A few butterfly bandages and he was done.

"Thank you Alex," Joe quietly said.

"You're welcome pet," Alex smiled. "I can't tell you how sorry I am about this Joey," he said, letting what sounded like real regret be heard in his voice.

"You really mean that don't you?" Joe was surprised. When those same words were spoken before he had suspected they were nothing more than empty words. Now he wasn't so sure.

"I do," Alex confirmed. "You're a good boy Joey you shouldn't have been treated that way." Reaching across the distance between them, Alex gave the boy's knee a comforting squeeze. "You're a treasure and should be treated as such. You never deserved anything that has happened today, not at my hands or Red's. There are so many things I wish I had done differently."

"Me too," Joe said without thinking. To his relief Alex's only response was a sharp laugh.

"I bet you do," Alex smiled. "I won't hurt you again pet," he promised. "No matter what I said before and no matter what your mother tries, the punishment will be given to the person who earns it."

"Why do you care?"

The question could have been seen as rude or disrespectful but it was said with such genuine confusion that Alex knew neither had been intended. "Because you're a good kid and if it weren't for me you never would have known what it's like to be betrayed by those who are supposed to take care of you and love you."

There was something in his voice that made Joe think the statement was more personal than Alex had intended. "Like you?"

Alex cupped the boy's face, his eyes gentling. "Smart too," the softly spoken words his only reply. "We need to get back into the other room."

Joe shook his head. "Please Alex I can't," he pleaded. He wasn't ready to see Red or his mother for that matter. Alex said nothing he simply stood, pulling Joe to his feet and into his arms. Joe relaxed as the man's arms wrapped around him once more. They stood like this for several minutes, neither speaking.

"You ready pet?" Alex quietly asked the boy hiding in his arms after a while.

"I guess so," Joe mumbled.

"Don't worry I won't let Red near you again," Alex promised.

"Thank you Alex." Bracing himself he let the older man lead him into the living room. Ignoring the gasps from his family, he followed Alex to the couch, lying down next to him.

"Are you happy now woman?" Alex growled, his voice fairly dripping with disgust.

"I didn't do anything." Laura flinched when Joe shot her an incredulous look. "I didn't baby, I swear I wouldn't put you in danger again." Her heart broke when Joe turned over so that he was facing the back of the couch. "Joe please…" 

Alex cut her off. "Not another word."

Afraid that Joe would suffer if she said anything else Laura swallowed everything she wanted to say. She didn't know what had made the man ill but she had nothing to do with it.

Alex transferred his gaze to Red. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Red seemingly wilted under the harsh stare. "I'm sorry man. He's just too easy to play with, I couldn't resist."

Alex shook his head. "You just remember what I said."

"I will," Red promised. "He's not for me, I'll remember."

Suddenly Red jumped to his feet. "Shit."

"What?" Alex questioned even as he was turning in his seat. Seeing the cop car in front of the house he understood Red's reaction. The car didn't stop, however, but only drove past. Just as he was about to relax he saw the cop pull into a driveway two doors down and on the opposite side of the street.

Knowing he couldn't trust Laura, he looked to Joe for the answers. "Joey, who lives two doors down on the other side of the street?"

"Mrs. Jenkins sir." He moved to sit up only to have Alex place a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

"Is there any reason she would call the police?"

"Prowler disguised as a cat, sir," Joe easily answered.

"What?"

"Cats get in her yard, knock something over and she thinks there's a prowler. She's a nice lady but she's always calling the police. Dad worries about her."

"Oh?"

Joe nodded. "He says someday there will be a problem and the police won't come quickly because they'll think it's just a cat, um, sir."

Alex smiled. "He's probably right. Where is your dad, by the way?" No longer worried about the cat he realized he didn't know when the man was due home. It wasn't a problem, but it would help if they knew whether or not they should expect him.

"Out of town sir." He hoped Alex didn't ask anything else. As they hadn't mentioned his father he didn't think they knew whose house they were in. He really didn't want the man to turn out to be somebody with a grudge against his dad. It scared Joe to think about how much worse the situation might become if that happened.

"When do you expect him back?"

Joe considered lying to the man but quickly dismissed the thought. "Not for a couple of days sir."

"Good." Alex relaxed back against the couch.

Con nearly stopped when he saw Phil's car, ready to go inside and give the boy hell for worrying his mother. Something, call it a sixth sense, call it a little birdie, whatever you like, but something told him not to stop. Having learned to heed his instincts, Con drove past the Hardy home, pulling into the driveway of their neighbor Mrs. Jenkins.

Martha Jenkins was surprised to see a police officer standing on her porch when she peeked through the curtain. Wondering if there was a prowler in the neighborhood she quickly opened the door. "Yes Officer?"

"Hello Mrs. Jenkins, may I come inside for a moment?"

Martha peered up at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Too late she remembered that criminals sometimes disguised themselves as police officers. "Oh my, you're that nice Officer Riley aren't you?" she asked as recognition lit her eyes. "Of course Officer, come right in." Stepping aside, she allowed the man entry into her home.

Closing the door, she turned to the young officer. "How can I help you Officer?"

"You already have Mrs. Jenkins," Con replied with a smile. "Could I use your phone?"

"Of course dear." She led him to the phone.

Aware that Fenton was out of town Con phoned his partner Sam Radley. "Mr. Radley this is Con Riley with the Bayport police. I wondered if you have a number where I can reach Mr. Hardy."

Sam came to attention, the seasoned detective immediately going on alert. "Has something happened to Laura or the boys?"

"Honestly Mr. Radley I don't know."

"Sam and what do you mean?"

Con quickly explained about the call from Mrs. Cohen and his discovery that Phil's car was parked in front of the Hardy home.

"It's probably nothing but instincts shouldn't be ignored," Sam conceded. "I can't reach Fenton but I may be able to find out if there's anything wrong. Do you have a number I can reach you at?" Quickly jotting down the number Con rattled off, Sam promised to call him back in a few minutes.

The sound of the phone ringing startled them all. Alex nodded at Red who helped Laura to her feet, leading her to the phone.

"Don't do anything stupid," he warned her. Picking up the receiver he held it to Laura's ear.

"Hello," Laura greeted the caller in what she hoped was a normal voice. How they expected her to sound normal after all that had happened she didn't understand.

"Hello Laura, Sam Radley here. I was wondering if the boys are home?"

"No Sam I'm afraid they're not here right now. They went over to Sam and Eli's for the night; they won't be back until tomorrow. I hope it wasn't anything important."

"No, nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. What time do you expect them home?"

"They're supposed to home about two."

"Thanks Laura, tell the boys I called?"

"Of course Sam, good-bye." Hearing Sam say good-bye she nodded to Red who hung up the phone. She bit her lip to keep away the smile that wanted to form. Finally somebody outside the house knew there was trouble. She only hoped Sam would find a way to help them before Joe was hurt again.

"Damn," Sam cursed as he ended the call. Quickly dialing the number Riley had given him he called the police officer. He started in surprise when a woman answered the phone. "Um, hello, could I speak to Officer Riley please?"

"Of course," Martha replied, handing the phone to Con.

"Sam? Did you find out anything?" Con anxiously questioned the detective.

"They're in trouble. Two men with guns are in the house with Laura and the boys. Since Phil's car is there I'd be willing to bet he's in the house too."

"Laura was able to tell you that?" Con was clearly surprised. He couldn't imagine criminals giving a hostage the privacy to give out that much information.

"Given all the possible enemies Fenton has he worked out a code, just in case."

"A code? Wasn't he worried that the criminals would catch on?"

"That's the beauty of it Con. This code would sound like a normal conversation to anybody that doesn't know the family or the code. When I asked Laura if the boys were home she told me no they went to Sam and Eli's for the night. Since they don't have any friends by that name I know two things, there are two men and they have guns."

"How?" Con was confused. It wasn't that he didn't trust the detective but if the Hardy's and the Cohen boy were in trouble they needed to be sure of the information they had.

"Sam Colt and Eli Remington," Sam replied. "If the men had knives the boys would be at Jim and Dave's as in Jim Bowie and Davey Crockett. If there were more than two she would have said they went with a few friends to Sam and Eli's."

Con's mouth fell open. He would never have thought of something like that. No wonder Fenton was so well respected by law enforcement departments at all levels.

"Now that we have that out of the way we need to figure out a way to rescue them" Sam continued, his tone determined.

"Meet me at headquarters. I'll radio the Chief…."

"No, don't do that," Sam interrupted. "Fenton has a scanner, if it happens to be on…"

"Right," Con nodded, quickly understanding the warning. "I'll let him know when I get there." Disconnecting the call, he thanked Mrs. Jenkins and warned her not to tell anybody what was happening as it could endanger the Hardy family. Walking to his car he slid behind the wheel and headed to the station.

TBC...

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Hello Sam, Riley has filled me in on the situation," Chief Collig greeted the detective.

"Good. I've been thinking about it on the way over and I'm afraid we may have to wait until they leave to make our move."

Chief Collig frowned. "But we don't know what they're planning, unless this code of Fenton's clued you in on that too."

Sam shook his head, "I'm afraid it's not that good. There is a way, though, to find out what's happening, that is if they're talking at all."

"What do you mean?" Collig asked.

"A parabolic microphone," was the answer.

Riley frowned. "I don't think there's anywhere you can set up without the risk of being spotted."

"There's one place, the boys' old tree house," Sam replied with a smile. "It's close enough to the house for the microphone to pick up anything being said but its position makes it impossible to see from the house."

"Are you sure about that Sam?" Collig questioned. It was true they needed the intel but it wouldn't be worth spit if they were seen by the men inside the house.

"The only way they'd see it is if they were in the attic and frankly I can't imagine any reason for them to be there. The simple fact is it's a small risk and one we'll have to take. Without any idea of their plans we could easily condemn the family with the wrong move."

Ezra had to concede that the detective was right. "I assume you have a microphone?"

Sam nodded. "My suggestion is to get the swat team in place, no closer than a block from the house. We don't want to risk them being seen. While you're doing that I'll set up in the tree house."

"How will you communicate with us? Con said that Fenton has a scanner."

"He does which is why I brought these," Sam said. Pulling a pair of radios from the duffle bag he carried, he handed one to the Chief.

"You do know we have radios?"

Sam grinned. "Not like these you don't. Fenton got these from a friend of his. They contain technology that blocks them from scanners. He knows the boys sometimes monitor his scanner when they know he's working, there are times he doesn't want them to hear what's happening," he said, answering the question before it could be voiced.

Ezra chuckled. "Alright, you go set up and I'll get my men organized. Radio us as soon as you hear anything helpful." As the detective stepped towards the door, Ezra called out to him. "Whether we hear from you or not if they try to leave we'll have to move in."

"Understood," Sam acknowledged.

As he listened to all that was being said Phil's mind was racing. There was something niggling at the back of his mind, if only he could figure it out.

Alex stroked Joe's hair offering what comfort he could. "I can't imagine what was going through your mind," he glared at Laura.

"May I ask a question sir?" Phil spoke up. He had just realized what had been bothering him.

Alex looked at the teen, who he had nearly forgotten as he was so quiet. "You may."

Careful to keep his voice respectful, Phil spoke again. "I've been thinking sir and I wondered if Mrs. Hardy did something why didn't it affect your friend?"

Alex frowned. He felt Joe tense under his hand. "That's a very good point," he said, staring pointedly at Red.

"I told you I didn't…" Laura began.

"The drinks," Red quickly broke in, cutting Laura off mid-sentence.

"What?" Alex demanded.

"I didn't want soda and traded it for tea. That's the only thing we had that was different."

Alex nodded. "I think that answers your question, doesn't it?" he asked Phil. The tone of his voice very clearly warned against arguing.

"Yes sir," Phil reluctantly admitted. He still wasn't convinced Mrs. Hardy had tried to incapacitate their assailants but he couldn't offer any other explanation.

"What I want to know," Red said, "is when are we going to get out of here?"

"Soon," Alex replied. "The real question, though, is can we trust them to keep their mouths shut?"

The hostages paled, they didn't like where this was going.

Red barked a short laugh. "You don't really need to ask do you?"

Alex shook his head. "No I don't. I think maybe they'll stay quiet if we have a little insurance."

"Huh?" Red wasn't sure he understood. Surely Alex didn't think taking the boy with them would keep the others quiet?

"I think we should take Joey with us."

"What the hell? She's tried stuff even after you warned her about what would happen why would you think she'd keep quiet?"

"You might be right but I don't think his brother will let her put Joey in danger, will you Frank?"

"No sir," Frank quickly and firmly replied. "But Joe needs to see a doctor, sir, couldn't you take me instead?" He doubted the man would agree but he had to try. Maybe he would at least take him too so Joe wouldn't be alone with the two of them.

"That's cute Frank," Alex laughed. "You really think I'd take you along? Anyway if I left Joey here and she took him to a doctor too many questions would be raised."

"Then take me," Laura spoke.

"Why didn't I think of that? Oh yes, because I don't want to spend the next three days looking over my shoulder." Alex sneered.

"Three days sir?" Frank asked, his voice laced with confusion.

"Yes," Alex confirmed. "This is what we'll do," he continued, looking at Laura. "When we leave we'll take two things, your car and Joey. If you don't call the police or FBI Joey will be returned to you in three days. Set the law on us and I'll sell the boy to the highest bidder; you'll never see him again."

Laura paled, she was terrified by what that meant but she had to know. "Sell? What do you mean sell?" she demanded.

Alex tightened his grip on Joe as he shot Laura a warning look. He hadn't lied, he wouldn't use Joe as a whipping boy but his mother didn't know that.

"What do you mean sell, sir?" Laura hastily corrected. She hoped and prayed it would be enough.

"Better. As for selling I think you know what I mean," was the cryptic reply.

"Please he's only a child…"

"A child that will remain safe as long as you keep your mouth shut for three days."

"I will, I swear I won't tell anybody, sir. Neither will Frank or Phil," Laura quickly promised for them all.

Alex smirked, just like clockwork the plan was coming together. "Then you won't need to worry about Joey."

In the tree house Sam listened with growing horror to the conversation taking place inside. Picking up his radio he called Chief Collig. They had plans to make if they were going to keep the men from taking Joe Hardy with them.

TBC...

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	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next several hours were filled with tension for those inside the house as well as the waiting officers. After studying the layout of the neighborhood and consulting with Sam Radley the commander of the swat team had a solid plan in place. Just in case the initial plan failed they would also set up roadblocks at either end of a four block section of Elm Street, as well as on any side streets. If the men escaped from the house with or without the boy they wouldn't escape the neighborhood. When Radley had reported what he'd heard every man on the swat team swore they wouldn't let them escape with their hostage. All they could do now was wait; the one thing that was always the hardest part of any operation.

"Radley," Lieutenant Jameson, commander of the SWAT unit called over the radio.

"Yeah?"

"What's going on in there?" The more time passed the more concerned he became for the hostages. He was particularly concerned for the youngest, given what had already been said. If they were even remotely connected with human trafficking there was no telling what sort of deprivations the child could have inflicted on him.

"Nothing as far as I can tell." Sam replied.

"They haven't said anything or nothing important?" Jameson asked for clarification.

"Nothing important, just small talk. The only thing that worries me is the attention one of them is giving Joe."

"What kind of attention?"

"He's not really saying or doing anything too alarming he just seems a little too solicitous of the boy's feelings. Keeps reassuring him that he won't be hurt again. I haven't heard the other one say much nor any of the other hostages."

"You have heard the other hostages though?" For all they knew the men could have killed everybody with the exception of the youngest.

"Yeah I've heard them, whispering support to each other…wait a minute." Turning his attention back to the house, Sam listened carefully. His face drained of color with the man's first words.

"You watch them Red, I'm going to take Joey upstairs."

Red smirked. "Sure man, have fun."

Alex felt the boy shuddered under his hand. "Get your mind out of the gutter. He needs some real clothes for the trip." Leaning closer to Joe, he whispered in his ear. "I told you pet, you won't be hurt again."

"I know sir," Joe quietly responded.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Red mumbled.

On the other side of the room, Laura and the boys sighed in relief. They too had thought the man was taking Joe upstairs for a completely different reason. There was no relief, however, at the thought of these men taking Joe with them.

Outside Sam closed his eyes, sending up a silent prayer of thanks as the conversation played out. Picking up the radio he keyed the mic. "They're getting ready to make their move."

"Roger," Jameson acknowledged. Turning to his men he ordered them into place. Two would wait beside the garage while two would hide in the shrubbery next to the porch. When the men with their hostage reached the drive his men would confront them. He thanked God that the Hardy's didn't have an entrance from the garage to the house. That would have made his job a hell of a lot harder. Radley would alert them when the men headed for the door.

Sam listened as the man told Joe to put on some clothes. He was surprised the man wasn't trying anything with the boy. Bastard was probably just waiting until they were away from the house, though why he was bothering Sam didn't know. He was just grateful that he was as they had no intention of allowing these men to escape, especially with Joe. When he heard Joe and his captor head downstairs he radioed his intention to get into position.

"Please don't take my son," Laura pleaded with the two men as Red searched her purse for her car keys.

"Shut up woman," Alex snapped. "You'll get him back safe and in one piece as long as you do as you're told. We have contacts so we'll know if you call the police or feds. It's up to you what happens to Joey," he reminded her.

Laura nodded. She was afraid that if she spoke again Joe would suffer but she couldn't let him leave without saying anything. "I love you baby, you'll be back home soon."

Joe wanted to believe her but at this point he didn't know what to believe. He was very afraid that when he walked out the door with Alex and Red he would never return. Taking one last look at Frank he hoped he would see his brother again. Not sure if he was allowed to talk he simply nodded, acknowledging her words as his eyes spoke to his brother of both love and fear.

On the back porch Sam listened, using the parabolic mic, waiting for the closing of the front door. The moment he heard it click he discarded the mic and inserted his spare key into the lock on the back door.

Frank shuddered. The fear he'd seen in Joe's eyes chilled him to the bone. He was terrified it would be the last look he ever had of his brother. A noise from the kitchen drew his attention a moment after the men left the house with Joe. Turning towards the dining room he saw Sam Radley moving into the room, gun in hand.

Holding a finger to his lips, Sam signaled for them to remain quiet. Moving stealthily he made his way to them.

"Joe?" Laura whispered.

"SWAT is outside, they'll keep him safe," Sam replied. Pulling a knife from his pocket he quickly cut the ropes holding them in place.

Outside the SWAT team was on the move. The two men had just stepped onto the driveway, the brunette holding Joe Hardy by the arm when four men stepped from hiding, guns brought to bear.

"Shit," Red swore. "What do we do now?" he asked Alex, this had never happened before.

Alex wasn't listening though, his focus was on the boy he now held in front of him. "I won't let them hurt you pet," he promised in a low voice. "I want you to drop to the ground when I say now, understand?"

Joe nodded. "What about you?"

Alex smiled, nearly laughing when he saw how nervous it made the cops surrounding them. "Don't worry about me pet. I don't plan to die today." Watching his partner from the corner of his eye he could see Red gearing up for a shoot out. Fool, he thought contemptuously. "Now," he ordered Joe. As the boy fell to the drive he followed him down, covering his body with his own as he tossed his gun into the grass.

The silence of the night shattered with a volley of gunshots as Red's nerves snapped. Alex felt Joe flinching beneath him, in the distance he thought he heard a woman screaming. In less than a minute the gunshots stopped, leaving Red lying on the pavement his lifeblood staining the concrete beneath him. Alex felt a hand on his arm, pulling him to his feet.

He was vaguely aware of somebody reading him his rights as they led him to a patrol unit. He watched as a paramedic began to check the boy, assessing his injuries and preparing him for a trip to the hospital. From the corner of his eye he saw movement. Turning his head, Alex saw Joe's family run from the house, a man he hadn't seen before accompanied them.

"Let me go Sam," Laura cried, struggling against the man holding her back from her son.

"You need to let them work Laura."

"Joe," Frank whispered. There was so much blood on the drive way, surely nobody could survive losing so much. He nearly collapsed with relief when he heard Con Riley's voice saying it wasn't Joe's blood. Only his friend's hand on his arm kept him on his feet. But if it wasn't Joe's blood then why wasn't his brother moving? He heard somebody saying something about shock and then they were placing Joe on a stretcher, taking him towards an ambulance now parked in front of the house.

"Come on Frank," Laura said, taking his hand.

"Mom?"

"Sam's going to give us a ride to the hospital," she explained.

Frank nodded, "Okay."

"You come along too Phil," Laura said.

Phil looked uncertain. "I should call my mom."

"She'll meet us at the hospital. You should all be checked out," Sam interjected. He knew that Collig would let Mrs. Cohen know where Phil was and that he didn't seem to be hurt.

"They didn't touch us," Frank bitterly informed his dad's partner. It had been torture, forced to watch as his little brother was hurt. The worst, by far, had been when Red had taken him into the kitchen. They could hear Joe crying out in fear and pain, begging the man to stop. Frank had actually been relieved to see the other man come back downstairs. Unable to do anything for his brother his only hope had been with Blue Eyes, crazy as that sounded. As they headed to Sam's car Frank noticed the red hair of the man on the pavement, he stopped. So the bastard was dead, good, he savagely thought as he glared at the body in their drive.

Laura stopped, turning towards her eldest as he stopped, staring towards the drive. She shuddered as she remembered what this man had done. She only hoped the cuts they'd seen had been the extent of the harm he had visited upon her youngest. Reaching for Frank's hand she flinched when he jerked away from her. The glare he turned her way wasn't as severe as that which he'd pointed at the man in the drive, but it wasn't by much. "Frank?"

"We need to get to the hospital," Frank responded with a frostiness he'd never directed at his mother.

Phil had heard that tone before. It was a tone Frank reserved for those who had hurt Joe. That it was aimed at his mother spoke volumes about the damage this day had done to the Hardy family. As they climbed into Sam's car, he and Frank in the back, he wondered just how far reaching that damage would prove to be.

TBC...

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Joe will be okay," Phil whispered to Frank, laying a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder.

Frank didn't turn from the window. "You don't know that," he pointed out. He unconsciously pressed his foot to the floor as if by doing so he could make the car travel faster.

Phil sighed. He didn't know what else to say. He could argue that Joe would be fine and he knew he was right at least in the physical sense. But he knew Frank wouldn't believe it until he could see Joe for himself. Maybe it would be better to focus on other aspects of the torturous day. "Do you know who those men are?"

Frank shook his head. He hadn't really had a chance to think while everything was happening. Now that it was over though…"Was this revenge against Dad?" he wondered out loud.

"Do you think that's what it was about?" Phil knew that Fenton Hardy sometimes helped bring very dangerous criminals to justice. He supposed some of them would want revenge but he wasn't too sure these men had been after revenge. They had never mentioned the famous detective, nor had they said anything that would make anybody think they were aware of just whose family they were tormenting.

"I don't know," Frank sighed. "Sam?"

Sam had heard the boys talking in the back seat and had expected the question. He only wished he had an answer. "I don't know Frank. I only got a quick look at them but I didn't recognize either one."

"If it wasn't revenge then why us?" the teenager asked. His tone was steady, making it clear he was only seeking information, trying to understand what had been done to his family.

"I wish I knew Frank," Sam quietly admitted. "I will find out, I promise you that."

Frank nodded. He wondered if it really mattered. Knowing why wouldn't undo the day. Joe would still be hurt; his mother would have still betrayed them. After the second whipping Joe had endured she shouldn't have tried anything else. How could she risk her son that way? "Does dad know?" Suddenly he wanted his father here with them.

"I couldn't contact him without risking his cover," Sam replied. "I did talk to his contact and the sting is set for tomorrow. He promised to have Fenton call me as soon as possible."

Frank frowned. His father never seemed to be around when they really needed him he thought resentfully. No, that wasn't fair. The job his father did was important; he and Joe even planned to follow in his footsteps. It was just an unfortunate fact that being a detective often meant periods of being incommunicado and this time something truly awful had happened.

Before anything else could be said Sam was following the ambulance into the hospital parking lot. While the ambulance stopped at the emergency entrance, Sam drove into the lot searching for a parking space. Fortunately it seemed to be a slow night and he quickly found a spot not far from the entrance. He barely had time to stop the car when the doors opened and his passengers were climbing out, moving quickly towards the emergency room. Less than four minutes after the ambulance stopped Sam was following the others into the hospital. There was no sign of Joe. He must have already been taken to the back.

Laura glanced anxiously around the emergency room but she didn't see her youngest. She hurried to the desk. "Excuse me, my son was just brought in."

The nurse eyed her sympathetically. "The young blond from the ambulance?"

Laura nodded. "Yes, where did they take him?"

"He's in exam 1." Seeing the woman's gaze moving to the doors leading to the exam areas she quickly continued. "I need to get some information from you before you go back."

"Of course," Laura sighed. "What do you need?" she asked.

Frank was headed towards the desk when Sam grabbed his arm. "Why don't we sit down over here Frank?" he gently suggested, steering the boy towards a row of chairs. "Maybe you can fill me on what happened." Seeing the teen's hesitance the detective quickly pointed out that he wouldn't be allowed in the exam area yet at any rate.

Conceding the point, Frank let Sam lead him to the chairs. Dropping heavily into one of the seats, he buried his face in his hands. He could feel a hand rubbing his back but whether it was Phil or Sam he didn't know. The soothing movement did serve to calm him down, to some extent. Seeing his brother and knowing he would be okay was what he really needed.

"It started mid-morning," Frank began. In halting sentences, Phil occasionally adding his own observations, he told Sam all that had happened. By the time he had finished Laura was no longer at the nurse's desk. Looking around the room he was surprised to see she was nowhere in sight.

Guessing who he was looking for, Sam answered the unasked question. "The nurse took your mom to the back."

"She shouldn't be back there."

Sam was shocked. He knew that the invaders had used Laura's actions as an excuse to hurt Joe but surely Frank wasn't blaming his mother. "Frank…"

"Don't," Frank cut him off. He didn't want to hear the man defending his mother's actions. "If she hadn't put whatever she did in their drinks Red never would have had the chance to hurt Joe."

"She did say she didn't do it," Phil pointed out.

Frank turned towards his friend, his contorted into a vicious snarl. "You heard him, in the kitchen, heard him crying and begging, so don't you dare defend her, not to me and not to Joe."

Phil recoiled, shocked by the anger pouring from his friend. "I'm not Frank, I swear. If she spiked their drinks, after what they'd already done to Joe, there isn't any defense for that, but what if she didn't do it?"

"You think they did it themselves?" Frank scoffed.

"Not they, but what about Red? You saw what he did to Joe and the way he looked at him. Don't you think it's possible he did something to Blue Eyes' drink to get him out of the way?"

"Mom was the one who brought the food and drinks into the living room, she was the one who fixed everything. Red never touched anything."

"That we saw. He was in the kitchen with your mom, he could have done something then," Phil pointed out.

"Phil's right Frank," Sam broke in. "Don't condemn your mother without all of the evidence, you know better than that."

"Phil, oh my baby," Edith Cohen cried as she wrapped her arms around her son. "Are you alright darling?" She looked him over with a critical eye but she couldn't see anything wrong with him.

"I'm fine Mom, they never touched me," Phil assured his mother. "Uncle Paul," he greeted the older man as he joined them.

"Have you seen a doctor?" Edith asked.

"I don't need a doctor Mom," Phil protested. "There's nothing wrong with me, all they did was tie me up, that's it." He looked to his uncle, silently begging for help.

"Edith the boy is fine, anybody can see that," Paul interjected, wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulders.

"But what if…"

"There is no what if Edith. Phil doesn't need a doctor," Paul firmly stated.

Edith sighed. "I suppose you're right," she admitted. Taking Phil's arm she tried to move him towards the door. "Come on son, we'll take you home now."

"I don't want to leave yet Mom."

"I don't understand, if you're not hurt why stay?"

"They hurt Joe and I want to stay at least until we know how he is," Phil explained, "and Frank needs the support."

"He probably has to make a statement to the police too," Paul pointed out.

Phil shot his uncle a grateful look. "That's right; I do need to talk to the police."

"You can talk to them tomorrow," Edith insisted. She wanted her son home where he would be safe. "As for Frank, I think maybe you shouldn't be spending time with…"

Phil jerked back. "I know you worry about me Mom, but you can't wrap me in cotton and lock me away from the world."

"I don't want to do that," Edith protested.

"You do," Phil retorted. "But it won't work Mom. Bad things happen," he glanced at Frank, "they can even happen in your own home, no matter what precautions you take." The look Phil gave his mother clearly conveyed his determination. "Frank didn't do anything to cause this and I'm not going to stop being his friend because of it."

"The boy's right Edith," Paul spoke quietly next to his sister's ear. "We'll take Phil to the police station to make a statement after we know how Joe is. Then we can all go home and get some rest, alright?"

Edith nodded. She knew the look on Phil's face, she'd seen it often enough on his father's face. There wouldn't be any dissuading him. Later, after some rest, she would be able to admit that she was proud of him. That loyalty to his friends was exactly the sort of behavior her Henry would have wanted their son to display. He'd been just as loyal to his own friends. "I suppose we should find seats."

Phil smiled. "Thank you Mom," he softly said as he leaned down to brush a light kiss on her cheek. He returned to his seat, his mother and uncle taking the seats beside him.

Laura had to force herself to stay calm as she answered the nurse's questions. She knew it was important information, but all she wanted right then was to be with her son. She didn't want to sit in an uncomfortable chair answering question after question about Joe's medical history as well as the injuries that had brought him here today. Finally the nurse had all she needed. "Can I see my son now?" Laura asked, just barely keeping her tone civil.

Sandy Morrison didn't blink at Mrs. Hardy's tone. This wasn't the first time she'd had to deal with a worried, anxious, family member, nor would it be the last. She had learned long ago not to take either tone or words personally. "Of course, I need to get this information to the doctor anyway." Standing up, she led the petite woman through the doors and into the back where the exam areas were located.

"Dr. Roberts, I have the patient's medical history," Sandy said as she led Laura into exam one.

"Good," the doctor said. Taking the papers from the nurse he quickly looked them over. No allergies, a few childhood injuries, no known medical conditions. "Is this his mother?" he asked Sandy as the other woman moved to stand near the exam table.

"Yes sir," Sandy replied.

"Mrs. Hardy, I'm Dr. Roberts," he introduced himself. "I've been treating your son."

"How is he doctor?" Laura anxiously inquired, ignoring the introduction.

"Physically he'll be fine. None of the cuts required stitches. We've cleaned them, applied antibiotic ointment and bandages. I'll write you a prescription for more ointment, it will need to be applied three times a day and the bandages changed at the same time."

"Were there any other injuries?" Laura quietly asked. She didn't want to think about it but after the things the men had said, the way they looked at Joe, she knew she couldn't ignore the possibility.

Tim frowned. "Were you expecting other injuries?"

"I don't know, it's just that they said things and…" Laura trailed off, unsure of how to continue. How did you tell a stranger that you thought your son might have been molested or worse?"

"I'm not sure I understand Mrs. Hardy."

"He called Joe pet and he kept touching him," tears streaked Laura's face as she spoke in a tight whisper.

"I see," Tim Roberts said sympathetically. He turned to Sandy, "We'll need to do a sexual assault kit."

Sandy nodded, her heart aching for the young boy lying so still on the table. If he had been assaulted it would certainly explain his lack of response to their conversation. Though they weren't speaking loudly it was unlikely he hadn't heard them.

Turning back to Laura, Dr. Roberts gently touched her arm. "Mrs. Hardy, I need to ask you to leave the room during the exam. You can wait in the hall if you like."

"He needs me," Laura protested.

Tim wasn't convinced of that. The boy hadn't responded since he'd been brought into the ER, he doubted Joe would know if she was there or not. "Mrs. Hardy the exam will be difficult for your son as it is, do you really think he'd want you to see him in such a vulnerable state?"

"Can I talk to him, before the exam?"

"Of course."

Laura moved towards the head of the exam table. "Joe, honey, I'm so sorry for what they did to you," she whispered, brushing his hair away from his face.

"Go away," Joe mumbled, surprising the doctor.

Laura gasped, tears once more falling over her cheeks. "Please Joey…"

"Don't call me that!" Joe yelled. Alex had called him Joey, he didn't want to hear anybody else using that name.

"Oh god," Laura whimpered. How could she have forgotten the way that man had used the nickname? "I'm sorry baby, I didn't think."

Joe turned his head, spotting the doctor. "I don't want her here."

"Mrs. Hardy I think maybe it's best if you leave for now," Tim quietly suggested. He didn't know why the boy was reacting to his mother with such anger but her presence was obviously upsetting to him.

Laura nodded; her movements were jerky as she moved reluctantly to the door. She wanted to argue but how could she? She couldn't blame Joe for his reaction, after all she was responsible for at least some of his injuries. And in her son's mind it was because of her that Red had hurt him. It didn't matter that she hadn't done anything to their food or drinks, Joe believed she did and as a result he didn't want her near him. No matter how it hurt Laura knew the best thing she could do for her son at this moment was to accede to his wishes.

Joe lapsed back into silence as soon as his mother had left the room. With nothing to distract him from the traumatic memories Joe quickly sank back into his previous state, oblivious to presence of the doctor and nurse. An unexpected hand coming to rest on his hip jerked him back to awareness. "What?" he asked.

Tim sighed. "Did you hear anything I said Joe?" he gently asked.

"Umm, not really, sorry sir," Joe quietly admitted.

"That's alright son, you've had a pretty trying day. My name is Tim Roberts, I'm the doctor who has been treating you. This is Sandy, she's a nurse and will be assisting me with the rest of the exam," the doctor explained.

Joe's face scrunched up. He knew he hadn't really been paying attention but he could feel bandages covering his back and chest, what else could there be. The doctor must have seen his confusion for he went on to explain. As he quietly explained the type of exam they would be giving him Joe could feel his face turning red and he had to avert his eyes. "They didn't…I don't need that kind of exam," he finally managed in a voice barely above a whisper.

Doctor and nurse exchanged a look. Neither had missed the look of shame on the boy's face. It was possible the child was only embarrassed but it wasn't unusual for victims of such crimes to insist nothing had happened. "I'm sorry Joe," Dr. Roberts apologized. "I know you don't want us to exam you but once a suspicion has been raised we're required by law to carry out the exam."

"But I told you they didn't…" he trailed off. He could see the doubt in their faces. "Please don't do this, please," he begged. Though they didn't mean him any harm his pleas went unheard. He couldn't fight them. He'd seen enough tv shows to know they'd just restrain him and do their exam anyway. Joe chose the only path open to him, retreat. As the doctor performed the exam, touching Joe in places nobody else was meant to, exposing him to the eyes of the nurse, leaving him humiliated and shamed the teen did his best to block it all from his mind.

TBC...

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	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Edith watched as Laura Hardy returned to the waiting room. The poor thing looked as if she had seen the horrors of hell. She was shocked when the other woman chose to sit a few chairs away from her son. Edith was further surprised when Frank made no move to comfort his mother. It was true she didn't know the Hardy family terribly well but they had always seemed very close-knit and the boys seemed to dote on their mother. She looked at her own son, hoping he could offer her an explanation.

"I'll explain later mom, please," Phil whispered. He hoped his mother would let it drop for now. If she insisted on being present when he gave his statement she'd hear it all then anyway. He was relieved when Edith nodded her acceptance, though he could see she desperately wanted an explanation now.

"You should go to her Frank," Sam advised.

"I suppose," Frank replied, though he made no move towards his mother.

Laura had intended to wait in the hallway just outside the exam room. That was her plan, until she heard her youngest begging the doctor not to do the exam. She couldn't take the guilt, knowing she had caused her baby yet more pain. But what else could she do? They needed to know how badly he was hurt. She only hoped that Joe would be able to understand later when he was more himself. Glancing to her left she flinched away from the look of fury on Frank's face. She was very much afraid that at least part of that fury was directed at her.

The double doors opened, drawing the attention of those in the waiting room. Both Hardys jumped to their feet as they converged on the doctor.

"Mrs. Hardy you'll be pleased to know the exam turned up nothing," Tim informed the woman.

"Thank God," Laura whispered, knees weak with relief, she found it difficult to remain standing. "Will Joe need to stay the night?"

"Wait a minute," Frank interrupted. "What are you talking about? I know Joe was hurt, we all saw the cuts and welts."

Laura bit her lip. Now that she knew that man hadn't hurt Joe sexually she didn't know how much to tell her oldest.

Seeing her dilemma the doctor intervened. "Due to the behavior of the assailants, your mother expressed some concern over the possibility of hidden injuries," Roberts diplomatically explained.

Frank's face turned red and his eyes widened as he realized what the doctor probably meant. "Oh," he whispered, unable to think of what else he should say.

The doctor turned again to Laura. "Given Joe's injuries I would normally send him home, however, there is a small complication."

"What kind of complication?" Laura fearfully asked.

"Joe has once more become unresponsive, much as he was when he was first brought in," the doctor explained. "I believe it's a reaction to the exam but I would prefer to see him responding to somebody before I release him. Now Mrs. Hardy as he did speak to you before I'm hoping he'll do so again."

Laura nodded. "Could Frank come too, they're very close. If Joe won't talk to me he might talk to Frank."

"That would be fine. Are you up to this Frank?" Roberts asked. Though the older teen had no visible injuries he was clearly exhausted. At the boy's nod he turned to lead the two through the doors, back to exam one.

Laura stepped slowly into the room. A few short steps brought her to her son's side. "Joe, honey, how are you doing baby?" she softly asked as she lovingly brushed her fingers through his hair. To her disappointment he said nothing. The blue eyes so like her own only looked through her, though whether this was due to shock or anger she wasn't sure. For a few minutes she continued trying, hoping for some response but nothing changed. Reluctantly she moved away from the table, giving Frank a chance to speak to his brother.

Frank watched from behind his mother. Each minute passing without a response had his fear for his brother increasing. Was he going to be like this forever? What would they do if he never recovered from the nightmare those men had forced him to live?

His mother stepped away, giving him his chance. With a lump in his throat Frank stepped forward. "Joe you need to wake up now." He tried to sound normal but knew he had failed miserably. To his surprise Joe blinked, once, twice, then his eyes focused. "Hey," Frank whispered.

"Hey," Joe returned. "Can we go home now Frank?" he asked in a small voice.

Frank looked towards the doctor, relieved when the man nodded. "Yeah Joe we can go home." He frowned in concern at the shudder sweeping through his brother when the doctor spoke.

"I'll get his discharge papers ready," the doctor said. Turning away he left the room.

"I need clothes," Joe said, looking down at the scrubs he wore. He didn't remember changing into them, he supposed the emergency room staff had done it when he came in. Joe shuddered, the thought of more hands touching him made him feel vaguely sick.

"You can wear the scrubs home Joe," Laura told him. She had been here with Fenton on more than one occasion when his own clothes had been ruined and so knew the procedure. Joe didn't respond but he didn't say anything more about his clothes.

"Will we have to talk to the police?" Joe asked Frank.

"I don't know if we'll have to do that tonight." Frank had another concern on his mind. He reluctantly turned to his mother. "Will we be able to stay in the house tonight?"

Laura looked at him in confusion. Why wouldn't they…oh of course she should have realized that Joe might not be up to it.

"It's a crime scene and I don't know about Joe but I'm not sure I want to be there right now," Frank explained.

Laura blushed, she hadn't even thought about the crime scene aspect. "We can get a hotel for a few days."

"Or you could stay with me and Ethel," Sam said from the door, startling them.

"Are you sure Ethel won't mind Sam?" Laura had to ask. Truthfully she was grateful for the offer. The thought of staying in an impersonal hotel wasn't really appealing, particularly considering the way the boys felt towards her at the moment.

"I already spoke to her, it was her idea," Sam assured her. "So…"

"Thank you Sam," Laura accepted with heartfelt gratitude.

"Do we have to make a statement tonight?" Frank asked.

"I think Collig will wait until tomorrow."

None of them rested well that night. What little sleep they managed was filled with nightmarish images. Nevertheless they made their way to the police station after breakfast. When they arrived they discovered that Phil Cohen had already made his statement.

"I'll need to speak to each of you separately," the Chief explained. He was handling this case personally. "Sam can come in with each of you if you like," he offered. He suspected they would all, especially Joe, need the support.

"Would you like to go first Joe?" Ezra wasn't sure if he was offering the boy a kindness or not. A quick shake of the head was the only answer he received.

"I'll go first," Frank stood. "You can stay out here Sam." He wanted the man with him but he didn't think Joe would like being left alone with their mother. He still hadn't spoken to her.

"Are you sure Frank?" Sam doubtfully asked.

"I'm sure." Turning away he followed Collig into his office. When he returned thirty minutes later his eyes were red-rimmed and his face blotchy. In spite of this he gave his brother an encouraging smile as he sat next to him, giving his hand a quick squeeze.

Laura went next, Sam going with her. She didn't look much better than Frank had when she returned. Sam, coming to stand in front of Joe, didn't look too well himself.

"You ready Joe?" Sam quietly asked.

"Do I have to?" Joe nearly whimpered.

Sam kneeled in front of him, laying a supportive hand on his knee. The slight flinch had him fighting the urge to hit the bastard locked in the cells. "I'm afraid so buddy. I'll be right beside you, I promise."

Taking a deep breath Joe nodded and pushed himself to his feet. Walking like a man on his way to the gallows he slowly followed Sam into the office.

Sam listened with growing horror as Joe told them everything he had experienced the day before. Though they already knew most of it from the others it wasn't the same as hearing it from the primary victim. Nor had the others known the particulars of what had happened in the kitchen with the one they all called Red. By the time it was over he wasn't sure which of them was most relieved.

"Can I go now?" Joe asked in a pleading tone.

Collig nodded. "Thank you for talking to me Joe." He wasn't surprised that the boy paused for only a second before leaving the room. He was nearly vibrating with the need to escape the meeting.

"What have you found out about the animals that did this?" Sam growled. "Why did they attack Laura and the boys? Was it revenge?" It had been his first thought and he knew it would be Fenton's as well.

Ezra sighed. "We don't know yet. According to his license the one they called Red was Gary Wyndham. The other one is Alex Tomlinson. Neither of them has a record as far as we can determine."

Sam gaped at him. "That's not possible. First time criminals don't do what they did."

"I didn't say they were first timers, I said they didn't have a record," Ezra pointed out. "At this point we're not even sure how they became partners. Tomlinson comes from a wealthy New England background, while Wyndham grew up in Chicago raised by a single mother." Ezra hesitated for a moment before continuing. "One more thing you'll want to know, Tomlinson has only said two things since he was brought in."

"And?"

Ezra braced himself, sure that Sam wouldn't react well to what he had to say next. "He wanted a lawyer and he wanted to know how Joe is."

"Son of a bitch," Sam swore.

"Does Fenton know yet?" Ezra asked, moving the conversation on to hopefully safer ground.

Sam shook his head. "I'm hoping to hear from him this afternoon. I expect him on the first plane home, case be damned, as soon as he finds out." Sam ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I don't mind telling you I don't look forward to the conversation."

"I can imagine," Ezra sympathized. "We will find out what was behind this Sam," he promised. "We're not done digging, not by a long shot."

"Neither am I," Sam vowed. "Between us we ought to be able to find something. They had to have left a trail somewhere."

"In the meantime why don't you take Laura and the boys home," Ezra suggested. "I don't know if they want to go to their home yet but the house has been processed."

"I'll mention it to them but I suspect we'll have houseguests at least until Fenton gets back. Thanks Chief," Sam said, offering his hand.

"Just doing my job," Ezra said, waving off the thanks. "I'll let you know as soon as we learn anything."

Sam stood to leave when a thought had him turning back towards the desk. "Do you know if the lab checked the food and drinks for any drugs?" He wasn't sure they would have as nobody knew before today that there was a possibility of drugs.

Ezra nodded. "The Cohen boy mentioned the accusation against Laura so I contacted the forensics people while they were still processing the house. Unfortunately there wasn't enough residue left in any of the glasses to test. They will test the food scraps but from the sounds of it if anything was slipped to the men it would have been in the drinks." Ezra wished he had better news for the other man.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You don't think Laura tried to drug them?"

"No I don't," Ezra admitted. "But those boys do and without proof to the contrary I'm not sure anybody will ever be able to convince them otherwise."

Sam nodded and opened the door, he was afraid the chief was right. Stepping into the outer office he saw that once more Laura was seated a little removed from her sons. He was gratified to see that Frank at least wasn't completely ignoring her nor was he shooting glares her way. Unfortunately he also wasn't making any effort to bring her into the quiet conversation he and Joe were having. Forcing the worry to the back of his mind Sam plastered a more pleasant look on his face as he stepped over to his partner's family. He couldn't take away the horror they had lived through but he could and would do all he could to lessen the pain of the aftermath.

TBC...

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	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

As Sam had expected none of the Hardys had any desire to return to their home. He couldn't blame them; he doubted he would have felt any differently in their shoes. After dropping Laura and the boys at his house he had headed to the office. He hoped to find something more about Wyndham and Tomlinson by the time Fenton called. The investigation was extremely frustrating. As far as he could tell neither man had ever had so much as a speeding ticket. He was just about to check for any sealed records, such as juvenile, when his phone rang. Glancing at the caller id he saw it was the call he'd been anticipating and dreading in equal measure.

"Hey Fenton," he greeted his partner in a tired voice.

"Sam what's going on? Has something happened to Laura or the boys?" Fenton wasn't sure why he asked. If his partner was leaving an urgent message while he was undercover it had to be something to do with his family. Not bothering to leave the local police station he had, immediately after receiving the message, moved to a quiet corner, fishing his cell phone from his pocket.

Sam sighed. "The first thing you need to know Fen is that Laura and the boys will be okay. Right now they're staying with Ethel and me."

Fenton closed his eyes, sending up silent thanks. "What happened Sam?"

"Have you ever heard of an Alex Tomlinson or a Gary Wyndham?"

Fenton searched his memory but neither name sounded familiar. He told Sam the same. "Who are they?"

"I can't tell you that, exactly, but I can tell you what they did," Sam replied. As gently as possible he explained the happenings of the day before. Finishing up he could hardly believe it had only been the day before.

Fenton had collapsed into a chair shortly after the narrative began. Listening to his friend relating the horror his family had endured was a torture in its own right. By the end of it his heart was pounding and his face had lost all color, bringing concerned glances from the police officers nearby. "Are you sure they're okay?"

Sam could easily hear the fear in Fenton's voice. "As okay as they can be, considering what they've went through. What worries me the most is the animosity being directed at Laura," Sam admitted.

Fenton sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "It worries me too but I hope with a little time and a few facts being pointed out to them the boys will realize their mother isn't to blame." He prayed his words would prove true. "I'm going to make travel arrangements; either a commercial flight or I'll have Jack Wayne fly out to pick me up, whichever is fastest. I'll call your house and speak to Laura as soon as I'm done."

Sam turned back to the computer after the call ended. He hoped to have some news for Fenton by the time he made it home.

Though the television was on Ethel Radley took no notice of it. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her friend Laura and her children. She couldn't imagine the terror they had experienced; it must have been absolutely horrific. Glancing towards the den, she hoped Laura was managing to get some rest. The anger from her boys certainly couldn't be helping in that regard. Ethel didn't understand why Frank and Joe seemed to be angry at their mother. She badly wanted to confront them but Laura had asked her not to interfere. She seemed to think she deserved their animosity, though Ethel couldn't imagine for what. The ringing of the phone drew her attention and she hurried to answer it before it could wake Laura.

"Radley residence," she quietly greeted the caller.

"Hello Ethel, it's Fenton."

"Oh hello Fenton, I suppose Sam has spoken to you then?"

"Yes," Fenton answered. "Could I speak to Laura?"

"Of course, just a moment." Ethel quickly took the phone down the hall to the den. Had the call been from anybody else she would have put them off but she was sure Laura needed the support of her husband even more than she needed rest. Knocking softly on the door she heard a soft reply. Pushing open the door she stepped into the room, holding out the phone to Laura. "It's Fenton," she said as she handed over the cordless and left the room.

Laura grasped the phone tightly. "Oh Fenton please tell me you'll be home soon," Laura cried.

"I'll be home by this evening love," Fenton quickly assured her. He hated to think of what his wife had endured to bring such thick emotion to her voice. His Laura had always been a vibrant, loving woman with a calmness that inspired confidence. To hear her so distraught hurt him in ways he'd never expected. "Laura, love, are you alright?" Fenton was almost afraid to hear the answer. Sam had of course told him that only Joe had been physically injured but there was more than one sort of pain. It was also possible that Laura had hidden information in a misguided effort to spare her family.

"They never touched me Fenton, only Joe," Laura said, the words choking her. "I'm sorry Fenton, I never should have tried to trick them. I thought I was being so clever when I called Phil the paperboy but that man wasn't fooled for a moment," Laura bitterly confessed. "They hurt our son, whipped him bloody, because I couldn't do as I was told." Tears streaked her face by the time she finished.

"I would have done the same thing Laura, anybody would have," Fenton assured her. He hated to listen to her castigating herself for what those animals had done to their son. "They didn't really give you a choice…" 

"Didn't they?"

"No love they didn't," Fenton sighed. "Did you know they would leave anybody alive? No you didn't," he went on, answering his own question. "Under those circumstances you had to try whatever you could to get help. I don't blame you love and neither will the boys after they've had some rest and distance."

Laura sighed. She wasn't convinced he was right. "I hope you're right darling." She took a deep breath, bracing herself. "Did Sam tell you everything?"

"You mean about the one who took Joe into the kitchen?"

"I didn't do anything to their food or drinks Fenton, I swear I didn't," Laura spoke quickly, desperately needing him to believe her.

It hurt to hear the obvious desperation, all Fenton could do was assure her of his trust. "I believe you love."

"Thank you," Laura spoke just above a whisper. "I only wish Frank and Joe did."

"I doubt they're thinking clearly right now love. I'm sure once their heads are clearer they'll realize you wouldn't lie to them about anything so important." A beep alerted Fenton to an incoming call. "Laura I have a call from Jack. The sooner I talk to him the sooner I can arrange to get home," he apologetically explained.

"I'll see you this evening darling," Laura replied before reluctantly ending the call.

Sam stared at the computer screen. He'd found a probable answer in the FBI database. He was sure he would be sick as he read the information. He called Collig with the suggestion that he run Wyndham and Tomlinson's prints through the FBI database of unsolved crimes. Receiving a promise of a call back as soon as the chief knew anything he ended the call. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that Fenton should be arriving home in a few hours. As it had turned out it was faster to have Jack Wayne fly to pick him up than it was to wait on a commercial flight. Fortunately the man was available and had been able to start out immediately.

Long before Fenton's arrival Sam had received confirmation of his suspicions from Collig. He wanted to be angry with the feds for not sending out an alert, warning people, but he had to admit their reasons were sound. Sam wasn't so sure his partner would agree, not when it was his family that had suffered at the hands of these psychos.

Fenton hurried his pace, the look on Sam's face telling him something had happened since they'd last talked. "Laura, the boys?" he gasped the question the moment he was close enough to be heard.

"Nothing's happened," Sam quickly assured the other man. "I do have some news though," he continued.

"What do you know?" Fenton demanded.

Sam sighed. "It'd be better if I tell you somewhere more private." He saw Fenton's brown eyes narrow in suspicion. "I'm not putting you off Fen but this isn't something that should be talked about in public."

Fenton nodded and followed his partner to the parking lot. Placing his bags in the trunk he climbed wearily into the passenger seat. The moment the doors shut he turned to Sam, demanding answers.

"As we suspected this isn't their first crime," Sam began. "I searched everything I could think of and wasn't finding anything when I had an idea. Following my hunch I entered the parameters of their crime, looking for similar occurrences. That's when I found them…in the FBI's unsolved crimes database. Collig ran their prints through the database and got a match."

"How many?" Fenton asked, his voice tight with anger.

"This was number thirteen," Sam replied. He winced, the curses uttered by Fenton were an indication of his anger level. Sam didn't blame him.

"Why didn't the FBI issue an alert? If they had warned people maybe Laura and the boys wouldn't have gone through this."

Sam breathed deeply, organizing his thoughts. "They couldn't and after I explain I think you'll understand why."

Fenton gave his partner a sharp look. "Go on."

"These men always attacked a family, though the make-up of the family varied. Some were single parent households, some two parents, socio-economic levels varied as well. All had at least two children but the ages and genders weren't always the same either so they couldn't go by that. Locations changed too, the Midwest, South, East coast, West coast, pretty much all over the U.S. The only thing the families had in common was the fact they were happy until the attacks."

Fenton sighed, he didn't want to admit it but the detective in him wouldn't allow for any other option. "You're right I do understand. How do you warn people under those circumstances without creating a panic?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know what else had been discovered but Fenton knew it was necessary. "What else?"

"After breaking into the homes they would choose one child as the whipping boy, though not always a boy. Just like with Laura and the boys they would torment the family, focusing their attention on the chosen child. When they left they told the families that if they didn't call the police or FBI their child would be returned in three days, if they did alert the authorities their child would be sold to the highest bidder. It was a bluff. Some of the families contacted the police some didn't; the children were all released at the end of three days." Sam looked away; he couldn't face Fenton while he told him the rest. "Each of them had been repeatedly raped and tortured during the three days, though they all insisted it was only Wyndham who raped them that Tomlinson tried to protect them from him. When the feds pointed out that Tomlinson had hurt them, even if he didn't rape them, they said he only punished them when they deserved it." The thought of any child believing they deserved such things made him sick, that Joe Hardy might have become one of them only made it worse.

"My god," Fenton gasped. "Anything else?" he asked after some moments.

"Each of the families dealt with the aftermath differently but one thing was true in each case. The happy family that had existed before the attack was destroyed."

Laying his head against the seat, Fenton let the tears fall.

TBC...

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	11. Chapter 11

A/N: The beginning of this chapter does a bit of backtracking as this scene is taking place during the same afternoon when Sam was looking for information on Alex and Red, before he picked Fenton up at the airport.

Chapter 11

Alex Tomlinson sat in his cell patiently waiting his lawyer's arrival. He had been amused by the obvious anger on the face of Chief Collig during his questioning. His refusal to answer any questions had clearly frustrated the other man. Of course what really made him mad was when Alex asked after Joe, as he'd known it would. The jangle of keys brought him to his feet. "Good afternoon officer," he greeted the jailer on the other side of the door.

Officer Green glared at the prisoner. He had heard what this man had done and like many police officers he had a special loathing for those who hurt children. "Turn around, hands behind your back and stand next to the bars," he ordered.

Alex offered no argument, simply doing as he was told. "Where am I going now officer?"

Green snapped the cuffs around Tomlinson's wrists with practiced ease before unlocking the cell. Taking the man's arm he pulled him from the cell. "Your lawyer's here," he snapped.

Alex smirked. It was easy to see this man was as angry as his chief, amusing Alex greatly. "Wonderful. I trust we'll have the privacy we're entitled to?"

Green bristled. "We don't spy on people talking to their lawyers."

"No offence intended officer," Alex apologized though of course it was a lie.

Green made no response and nothing more was said as he led Tomlinson to the interview room. He pushed the man into a seat and removing the cuff from his right wrist he used it to secure the prisoner's left wrist to the arm of the chair.

"Hello Mr. Lovell," Alex greeted the middle-aged man seated across from him.

"Mr. Tomlinson," Broderick Lovell nodded. "Your father is concerned about the mess you've found yourself in."

"Mr. Lovell are you here as my lawyer or as a voice for my father?" Alex coldly asked.

"I am of course representing you Mr. Tomlinson but your father is paying me."

"So anything I say will be repeated to the old man?" he sneered.

Lovell frowned. "Let us get a couple of things straight Mr. Tomlinson. To begin with, anything said between us is privileged information which will be shared with nobody, not even your father. However, as your father is paying for my services you would do well to take his concerns into consideration lest he withdraw his support."

"You make a good point Mr. Lovell, however, you should know that I can easily afford your services myself. I am more than willing to let the old man give his support by way of paying you as long as his concerns never interfere with my wishes as they pertain to this case. Are we understood?"

Looking into the cold eyes of his client Broderick Lovell could only nod his acceptance of the man's statement. For the next three hours they went over the evidence against Alex. There was more than one argument over strategy and to his surprise Alex won more often than not. When they reached a stopping point he began to gather his notes. "Well I think that's all we can do today. I'll begin on what we discussed immediately."

"There is one thing I need you to do," Alex said pulling a few sheets of paper from his pocket.

"What is that Mr. Tomlinson?" Even after their long interview Broderick didn't feel comfortable referring to the other man by his first name, he doubted he ever would.

"I need you to mail a letter for me," Alex informed him as he reached for an envelope.

"You don't need me for that."

Alex sneered. "Mr. Lovell you know as well as I do that the police are going to monitor my phone calls and mail. The only communications they can't monitor are those I have with you."

Broderick sighed. "You're correct, of course, but it isn't quite ethical for me to help you in bypassing those restraints. It could even be seen as contraband, if one were to stretch the point."

Alex ignored him as he addressed the envelope.

Broderick could see he was getting nowhere. "Who is the letter for?"

"It's for my girlfriend," Alex replied in a quiet voice. "I'm sure she'll have been informed of this mess as you call it long before the letter reaches her but I want the chance to tell her my side of the story as soon as I can. If I send it through normal channels the police will read it and frankly Mr. Lovell it would feel almost as if it were a violation of my girl for them to see the words meant only for her eyes."

Broderick shook his head, unbelievable. "Not to mention the possibly incriminating information?"

Alex smiled. "I knew you'd understand."

"I will mail the letter to your girlfriend tomorrow," Broderick reluctantly agreed. "I will also make a note of her name and address which I will gladly turn over to the authorities if you are using me in some sort of escape plan," he warned.

"Fair enough but there are no escape plans," Alex assured him.

Sam pulled into his driveway. He had taken the long way home, giving Fenton time to pull himself together. "Why don't you go on in, I'll take care of your bags," he offered.

Fenton shot his partner a grateful look and with mumbled thanks climbed out of the car. Anxious to see his family he hurried into the house, barely taking the time to greet Ethel before heading to the den she pointed towards.

"Laura," he quietly called as he stepped into the room. He had barely cleared the door when a bundle of sobbing, petite blonde was in his arms. "Oh honey," he sighed. Holding her close he couldn't help wishing there was more he could do, someway to fix what was wrong.

Laura soaked up the strength her husband offered, grateful beyond words for his support. She had been deathly afraid that he would, in the hours since they last spoke, decide the boys were right to blame her. She wasn't sure how long he held her but finally her tears were spent, for now at any rate. Drawing back yet remaining within the circle of Fenton's arms she gazed up at his face. "I'm so glad you're here," she softly whispered.

"I just wish I could have been here sooner," Fenton responded. He wouldn't make her feel more inadequate by expressing the wish in his heart, that he could have been here to prevent the event altogether. Though after hearing what Sam had to tell him he wasn't convinced he could have prevented it, even if he'd been home. "How are the boys?"

Laura shrugged. "As well as they can be I guess. Oh Fenton I don't know," she whimpered. "Joe won't even look at me and Frank is barely civil. They blame me for what happened to Joe."

Fenton closed his eyes, drawing her close once more. "They'll come around love," he assured her. He debated telling them what Sam had found out. They would have to be told eventually, he certainly didn't want them to find out through the newspapers or at the trial. The only question was should he tell them now or wait?

Laura drew back ready to argue, something in his face changed her mind. "You know something." It wasn't a question.

"Sam found some information," Fenton confirmed. He sometimes forgot how perceptive Laura could be, especially where he or their sons were concerned.

"What?" Laura wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. She listened in growing horror as Fenton relayed Sam's findings to her. Their plans for Joe weren't really a surprise but there was a decided difference in suspecting a thing and having it confirmed.

By the end of the recitation both parents were in tears, as they held tight to one another giving and taking strength in equal measure.

"You should go see the boys," Laura said sometime later.

"Are you sure?" Fenton wanted to see the boys but he didn't like leaving Laura alone. She had been alone too much since yesterday.

"I'm sure," Laura replied, offering a tremulous smile. "They need you too darling."

Fenton kissed her once and left the room. A quick question to Sam in the living room and he knew where to find the boys. Slowly climbing the stairs he made his way to the guest room; he knocked quietly.

Frank got up to answer the door. He hoped it wasn't his mother. "Dad," he just barely kept from shouting the greeting as he grabbed the man in a tight hug.

Fenton returned the hug, concerned by the demonstrativeness. If it had been Joe he wouldn't have been concerned but Frank was usually much more reserved. "I came as soon as I could. How are you doing son?" he asked pulling back so he could get a better look at the boy.

"I'm fine," Frank sadly replied. "Joe's the one you should be worried about."

"I worry about you both Frank," Fenton told him, his voice thick. "I know Joe suffered more physically but that doesn't mean you were left untouched by what happened."

Frank shrugged. He would admit it hadn't been easy to helplessly watch as they hurt his little brother but that was nothing compared to what Joe endured. "He shouldn't have had to suffer at all."

"No he shouldn't have, none of you should have," Fenton agreed.

"If mom…"

"Frank do you really think your mother would do anything to endanger either of you?" Fenton gently asked.

"She did," Frank snapped. "Sorry," he mumbled. He had never spoken to his father in such a tone before.

Fenton sighed. "Did she or you know that they would let you live?"

Frank thought about it, shaking his head after a moment.

"Don't you see son she had to take a chance in passing that note to Phil."

"Maybe but you can't excuse spiking their food," Frank argued.

"Are you sure she did?"

"Who else would have?"

"She says she didn't do it Frank. Your mother isn't perfect, none of us are, but she's never lied to any of us. I can't believe she would begin now, especially over something so important."

Frank looked towards the bed where his brother lay sleeping. He looked so peaceful and innocent. He wished it would last but Frank knew the nightmares would come soon enough, robbing his brother of the little oasis of peace he had found. He was torn. What if Phil had been right? What if it had been Red who had spiked his partner's food? Had he been treating his mother unfairly, blaming her for something she was innocent of doing? But Joe needed him, more than their mother, and fair or not his brother blamed their mother for what Red had done to him. "Joe blames her."

"I'm sure he does," Fenton conceded. "I'm hoping that with time he'll come to realize your mother's innocence in what he suffered." Laying a hand on the boy's shoulder he gave it a squeeze. "Do you realize?"

"I don't know," Frank honestly replied. "I have to think."

Fenton nodded. He knew now that Frank at least needed to be told about what Sam had found, sooner rather than later. He doubted Joe could handle the information right now but he thought his oldest could. "Why don't you go ask Sam what he found out," he suggested. He didn't want to say anymore where Joe might hear; at least that was what he told himself. "Tell him it was my idea."

"I don't want to leave Joe," Frank protested.

"I'll stay with your brother, go on downstairs son."

"He has nightmares," Frank warned.

"I expect he does," Fenton said. "Don't worry son, I'll be here for him," he assured the older boy. Relieved when Frank gave in and left the room he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Combing his fingers through Joe's blond locks he drank in the sight of his youngest. He was horribly damaged by what Tomlinson and Wyndham had done to him but Fenton knew it could have been so much worse.

Joe became aware of fingers brushing through his hair. For a moment he thought Alex was here. "Alex?" he murmured as he sleepily opened his eyes to see the shocked face of his father.

TBC...

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	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Frank slowly walked downstairs. He hadn't wanted to leave Joe, his brother needed him, but he didn't want to argue with his father either. Expecting to see Sam in the living room it took Frank a few seconds to realize the room was empty. About to turn towards the hall leading to Sam's office he reversed course upon hearing voices coming from the kitchen. Stepping into the bright room he nearly left again when he spotted his mother sitting at the small table with Sam and Ethel.

"Frank, come in and sit down," Ethel called. "Are you hungry?" Seeing the teen standing in the doorway Ethel had glanced uncertainly at Laura. Knowing of the tension between mother and son Ethel quickly decided it would be best if she behaved normally.

"No thanks," Frank replied. "I just came down to talk to Sam," he explained, "I didn't mean to interrupt." As he spoke his eyes were focused on the older man. He knew he might be treating his mother unfairly but he just couldn't stand to look at her right now.

"It's alright Frank," Sam said as he stood up. "We can talk in the living room or my office if you like," he offered.

Frank shrugged, "Office I guess."

No words were spoken between them as they walked from the kitchen. In the office Frank sank into one of the comfortable chairs Sam kept in the small room. "Dad said you found something," the teen stated as the detective took his own seat.

"I did," Sam confirmed. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you himself."

"He wanted to spend some time with Joe," Frank explained. "He said you could tell me," he added.

"It's not pretty," Sam warned.

Frank barked a short laugh. "I…we lived through a nightmare yesterday Sam, if you know why; I want to know. I need to know why my brother was tortured."

Sam nodded. He couldn't argue with that. "What did you dad tell you?"

"Nothing, he just asked if I was okay and then tried to convince me I shouldn't be blaming Mom for what happened to Joe."

"If you listen to what I tell you, one detective to another, I think you'll end up agreeing."

Frank wasn't convinced but pushing his emotions to the side he asked Sam to continue. He listened in growing horror to the story Sam told. "Oh god," he gasped, his face draining of color. Desperately he grabbed the small wastebasket as what little he had eaten made a return appearance.

Sam hurried around the desk to the teen's side, gently rubbing his back as he lost control of his stomach. "Better?" he quietly asked when it seemed the boy was finished.

Frank nodded.

Sam handed him a handful of tissues. As Frank cleaned himself up Sam moved to the small refrigerator he kept in the office and pulled out a container of bottled water. Handing the water to the teen he sat back down, waiting for the boy to regain his composure.

"That's why you think Mom didn't spike their food, isn't it?" Frank asked. Sam quickly confirmed his reasoning. "Did the same thing happen with the other families?"

"No," Sam admitted. He had actually been surprised when he looked over the information. "But in every case there came a point in which Red was able to get the child alone."

"Which only proves he was an opportunist," Frank pointed out. Once more pushing his emotions to the side the teen was able to look at the information logically.

"You make a good point Frank, but it's also possible that he manufactured the opportunities. Don't forget he was the one who carried out the rapes. Tomlinson doesn't seem to have had any interest in the victims in that respect." Sam wearily massaged his forehead. He didn't know how to make Frank see that his mother was as much a victim as the rest of them.

"Dad reminded me that Mom has never lied to us. He doesn't think she's lying now."

Frank wasn't so much speaking to Sam as he was working things out in his own mind. Familiar with the teen Sam didn't say anything.

"It does make more sense that Red put something in his partner's drink." Frank looked up to see Sam watching him. "Guess I should talk to my mom?"

"Nobody is going to force you Frank," Sam replied.

Frank nodded. Standing up he moved to the door. As he put his hand on the knob he glanced back at Sam. "Do you think we'll ever know why?"

"We're going to do our best to answer that question Frank."

Without another word Frank left the small office. He wandered back to the kitchen but his mother was no longer there. Learning from Ethel that she had retired to the den he retraced his steps, passing Sam's office he came to a stop in front of the door behind which his mother rested. Knocking softly he waited for permission to enter.

"Frank," Laura cried in surprise. She had thought it would be Ethel offering more tea or maybe Fenton come to tell her that the boys were still angry and blaming her.

"I talked to Sam," Frank said. He could see the hope come to life in her eyes, the same blue eyes as his brother possessed. Like Joe, his mother's emotional state could be clearly read within the sapphire depths. It hurt to see the same dull pain his brother suffered reflected within his mother's eyes. "You didn't spike their food or drinks, did you?"

"No," Laura quickly answered. "I wouldn't have taken that risk Frank, not after what they had already done to Joe. I don't know what made that man sick but it wasn't anything I did, I swear it."

Frank wanted to believe her.

"You don't believe me," Laura sighed, the light of hope fading.

"I want to," Frank quietly responded.

"Why can't you?"

"I…it feels like it'd be a betrayal."

"Of Joe?" Laura wasn't surprised when he nodded. She had always been proud and happy to see her children share such a close relationship. It had never occurred to Laura that the day might come when that closeness would be a thing to hate. "Alright then, think about it logically," she challenged, knowing the way her son's mind worked.

"Logically you had every reason to spike their food. Red didn't need to do anything since he knew he'd have the chance to do what he wanted when they left with Joe."

Laura wanted to scream. He was right, she had more reason than Red to spike the food but she knew she hadn't. How was she going to convince Frank? "Where would I get the substance to poison their food?"

Frank thought it over, reviewing the contents of the kitchen. There were no pesticides kept there, they were all in the garden shed. It would have to be something else, medication of some sort, but those were in the upstairs bathrooms. "The first aid kit," he replied a moment later.

"No," Laura said. "The only thing in the first aid kit that would make a person sick would be the ipecac syrup. But think Frank, ipecac would have made both of them sick and it would have happened fast, not an hour after eating."

"You really didn't do it, did you?"

"No honey, I didn't," Laura confirmed.

Frank closed the distance between them, drawing his mother into a tight hug. "I'm sorry Mom, I never should have doubted you."

Laura drew back, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You had reason to doubt Frank."

Frank shook his head. "I shouldn't have let them manipulate me like that." She was so quick to forgive, just like Joe, but he knew he didn't deserve his mother's forgiveness.

Laura caressed his cheek. "Oh honey you didn't know." She could see he wasn't going to accept her forgiveness so easily. "Listen to me Frank Hardy," she spoke with a firmness that wouldn't be argued with. "Those men have had years to practice their manipulations."

"But I'm a detective I should have known," Frank protested.

"Yes, a detective and a sixteen year old boy. A boy who had just spent the day held prisoner by a couple of psychopaths, watching his brother enduring horrible beatings. You're not psychic honey, there was no way you could have known that the whole thing was some sort of sick game. Please don't beat yourself up for your doubts."

"I'll try not to." It was the best he could offer.

"Good enough," Laura said a small, sad smile on her face.

Joe blinked, wondering if he was seeing things. Slowly he reached out, finally taking his father's hand in his own. "You're really here," he whispered.

"I'm here son," Fenton confirmed, giving the smaller hand a gentle squeeze. "I only wished I had been here sooner"

"Maybe it's better you weren't," Joe said. He thought his father would have probably tried to fight Red and Alex too. He wasn't sure he could have stood both parents being responsible for the punishments.

"Why do you say that?"

Joe only shrugged.

"Joe, when you woke up you were calling for Alex…"

Joe knew what his father was asking. "He brushed my hair with his fingers," he explained. "I thought I had only dreamed the rescue." Joe didn't think his father would like to know what else he had thought.

"I see," Fenton couldn't keep the relief from his voice. When Joe had called that man's name he'd almost sounded happy, or maybe content would be a better word. He was relieved to know it had only been confusion. "How did you know his name?" It had suddenly occurred to him that Joe shouldn't have known.

"He told me," Joe quietly admitted.

"He told you?" Fenton echoed. "More manipulation," he mumbled.

"What?"

Fenton sighed. Joe needed to know the truth, but how much of the truth? He was, after all, only fourteen and unlike the other victims his innocence hadn't been ripped from him. "There are some things you need to know son."

"What things?"

"The truth of what happened…"

"I know what happened, I was there," Joe cut him off. "I lived through it." He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You don't care about me," he accused.

"Joe, how can you say that?" Fenton asked, his son's words cut him deeply. "I love you son, how could you think otherwise?"

"It's true," Joe insisted. "You're just here to defend Mom. You want to convince me that she was right to do what she did."

"There are things you don't know son, please listen," Fenton pleaded.

"Get out!" Joe snapped.

Fenton sighed. He wanted to hit something. He wondered if he could convince Ezra to give him a few minutes alone with Tomlinson? He could force his son to listen but he couldn't force him to hear. "I didn't come in here just to defend your mother," Fenton said.

"Maybe not but you are going to defend her, aren't you?" How could his father defend her, he wondered, forgetting his own defense of her before Red took him into the kitchen. If it hadn't been for Alex…Joe shuddered in remembered terror. "I'm tired Dad," he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Alright son," Fenton quietly responded, resigned for now. "I'll let you sleep." Leaning down he brushed a kiss against Joe's temple. Standing up he moved away from the bed. At the door he took one more looked at his youngest, his face awash with sadness. I won't let those monsters destroy this family, they won't win, he silently promised as he reluctantly left the room.

TBC...

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	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The day after Fenton's return to Bayport the Hardy family returned to their home. It wasn't a comfortable homecoming for any of them. Fenton had considered renting an apartment for a while but knew the longer they stayed away the harder returning would be. Perhaps even more importantly coming home was a vital step in recovering as a family.

The morning had seen Fenton taking care of a few necessary things before his family could return home. So it was that it was nearly lunchtime when they walked in the door. Though he hadn't planned it that way Fenton thought it might be a blessing in disguise as it would provide them all with something normal to do. Hopefully it would lessen some of the awkwardness he knew Laura and the boys were feeling.

"Why don't I help you with lunch love?" he suggested.

Laura paled. "Couldn't we order something?" she asked. This had been a mistake, she thought as she glanced at the boys. Clearly none of them were ready to be here. "Fenton maybe…"

"It'll be alright Laura, I promise," Fenton quietly interrupted her. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and walking towards the kitchen. He knew it was important that she and the boys face their fears. "You too boys," he called over his shoulder.

Frank looked at Joe. "Come on little brother, I've got you," he encouraged the trembling teen. Wrapping an arm around the younger boy's shoulder he steered him to the kitchen.

"Fenton what? But how?" Laura gasped as she stepped fully into the kitchen. The room gleamed, there was no sign of the nightmare they had endured. Her gaze swept the space, stopping at the new table and chairs.

Fenton wrapped his arms around Laura, holding her loosely within his embrace. "I hired a company that specializes in difficult cleaning jobs. While they were here cleaning I was downtown at the Henderson's looking at kitchen sets. I didn't think any of us would want to keep the old one."

Laura turned in his arms, kissing him soundly. "Thank you Fenton. You don't know how I dreaded seeing that table, this room." She faltered, unable to go on as emotion overcame her.

Fenton held her tight, allowing her as much time as she needed to compose herself. Looking over at the boys he saw his wife's surprise mirrored on their faces. "Boys?"

Both boys turned his way, Joe's eyes glistening suspiciously. "It's a nice looking table, different," he said. He blushed, embarrassed by his reaction. He had expected to walk into this room and see himself lying across the table, shirt in bloody tatters as Alex stood over him, a belt held in his hand. Instead, thanks to his father, he saw not the rectangular table he'd expected but a smaller, cozier, round table in its place; a table with no memories to torment him. Even the chairs had been replaced, nothing of the old kitchen set was left to remind any of them of that horrible day.

"I like it," Frank smiled, offering his father a grateful smile.

"Why don't you boys go outside, enjoy some fresh air, while your mother and I put some lunch together," Fenton suggested.

"You want to sit out back for a while Joe?" Frank asked. Once more Frank was thankful their father was here. His quiet strength and consideration making the uncomfortable homecoming easier than it might have otherwise been.

"I'm not really hungry," Joe mumbled. "Maybe I'll just go lie down." 

"Joe you need to eat," Frank said. He hadn't been able to talk to Joe about what they'd learned yet. The few times he'd tried Joe had cut him off, claiming he was too tired or his head was hurting. Frank knew they were just excuses to avoid hearing what he saw as a defense of their mother, but how could he insist without alienating his brother?

"Let him go Frank," Fenton cut in. "You do need to eat later son, okay?" he added.

"I will," Joe quickly agreed. He wasn't ready to sit down at a table with his mother. Joe knew he would have to, eventually. No matter how he felt she was his mother, he couldn't avoid her forever, nor would his father allow it.

Frank watched his brother leave the room, his dark eyes sad as he took in the tired slump of the younger boy's shoulders. He was fourteen, he shouldn't look so defeated! It wasn't right. "Should I go after him? Try to tell him again what Sam found out?" he asked, turning to his father.

"Do you think he'll listen?" Fenton asked.

"No," Frank reluctantly admitted.

"We have to give him some time son, no matter how hard that is," Fenton counseled. "Forcing him to listen will only make him tune out what we're trying to tell him."

"I guess I'll go call Phil, see how he's doing," Frank said, leaving the room. As much as he hated to admit it he knew his father was right.

Squeezing his wife's shoulder, Fenton brushed a kiss into her hair. "You won't lose him love," he whispered. He knew it was what she would be thinking.

"How can you be so sure?" Laura asked in a small voice.

Turning her so she faced him, Fenton caught her in a serious gaze. "Because we won't stop fighting for him, even if we have to fight Joe himself."

Laura seeing the truth in his eyes gained strength. "Lunch?" she asked, a tremulous smile crossing her face.

While Fenton worked on rebuilding his family, his partner Sam Radley and the police chief Ezra Collig were investigating the history of Tomlinson and Wyndham. What they found explained a lot even as it left them with questions unanswered. Questions both men secretly feared would never be resolved.

The day after the Hardy's returned home, Sam knocked on the door. "Hello Frank," Sam greeted the dark haired teen. "Is you dad home?"

"Yeah, he's in his office," Frank replied. Stepping aside he let Sam enter the house, shutting the door behind him. "Do you want me to get him or…"

"I'll just go to his office," Sam said. "Is he alone?"

Frank nodded. "Sam…did you find out anything?" Considering what they already knew, Frank wasn't sure he wanted the answer, but it wasn't in him to ignore information even if it was unpleasant.

"I did, but I don't think I should tell you until I talk to your dad."

"I have a right to know" Frank nearly growled, surprising the older man.

"He's right Sam," Fenton said, coming into the hall. "Why don't we all go to my office," he suggested.

A couple of minutes later found the three of them settled in the small room. "What did you find out Sam?" Fenton asked, starting the conversation.

Sam opened the file folder Frank just now noticed he was carrying. "Alexander Tomlinson is the only son of Richard and Annaleise Tomlinson. Richard Tomlinson made his fortune in real estate. By all the parameters set by society he is a highly successful man. When his son was young the family was seemingly perfect. The boy was a certified genius, dedicated to his studies though he was as equally driven in sports and other pursuits as well. The boy's mother, Annaleise was a psychiatrist, specializing in the treatment of children, particularly adolescents.

As often happens in such cases, it seems the perfect family only existed in the public eye. Behind closed doors, the happy family wasn't so happy. Both parents were busy with their careers with the result that they often ignored their son. When Alex was fourteen his mother suffered a breakdown. Apparently she developed schizophrenia, she was hospitalized for a short time and three months after her release she was found, by her son, hanging from the chandelier in the dining room. "

"Jesus," Fenton sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He was beginning to get some idea of how Tomlinson had become the monster he had.

"Fenton?" Sam asked uncertainly. He wasn't sure if he should continue.

"Go on," came the steady reply.

Sam gave Frank a glance, seeing the same determination in the teen's face. "Father and son began to fight quite a bit after that. The boy blamed his father for his mother's fate. When he was sixteen his father, fed up with the fighting and the discipline problems that followed, enrolled the boy in a military school. This is where he met Gary Wyndham, sent there by the courts in an attempt to save him from himself. Wyndham was nothing more than a petty criminal and street thug before meeting Tomlinson. In school they became fast friends, Tomlinson often protecting Wyndham from the other students, most of whom came from backgrounds similar to that of Tomlinson. After school the two boys drifted from place to place, living off the generous allowance provided to Alex by his father. Five years ago they began the path that led them to your door that morning."

"Is that all you know?" Fenton asked.

Sam nodded. "We're still tracking down former friends, trying to find all we can. I'm sure the FBI are doing the same. Unfortunately I suspect most of the answers needed are locked in Alex Tomlinson's head." He shuddered when he remembered the interview he'd witnessed at the police station. He'd never come across anyone as coldly calculating as Alexander Tomlinson. "Frankly I'm not sure we could trust anything he would tell us."

"Thank you for handling the investigation Sam. I couldn't be very objective right now," Fenton admitted. It had been one of the reasons he'd asked his partner to handle things, the other being the need to be here for his family.

"I'll let you know when I have anything else, if I can find anything," Sam told him. "How are you all holding up?"

Fenton exchanged a look with his oldest. "About as well as can be expected. Joe won't give us a chance to tell him what we found. He sees any attempt as nothing more than a means of deflecting blame from Laura." Fenton sighed deeply. "I can only hope he'll listen soon."

"He will Fen, he just needs some distance from the events," Sam said, hoping to reassure his friend.

"I hope you're right Sam," Fenton responded with heartfelt honesty.

Frank had listened silently as Sam told them of his findings. He couldn't help a bit of sympathy towards the young Alex but that was obliterated by the path the older Alex had chosen to follow. Many people suffered unhappy childhoods, even tragic childhoods, they didn't grow up to visit similar destructive pain on other innocent children. "Maybe we shouldn't tell him," he spoke up for the first time.

"What are you suggesting son?" Fenton asked.

"What Sam said about distance," Frank began, "maybe he needs to hear the truth from somebody who isn't family."

"You mean a psychiatrist?"

Frank shook his head. "I was thinking somebody closer to his age…Phil."

"Why Phil?" Fenton asked.

"He was here for most of that day so Joe won't feel embarrassed or ashamed like he would with somebody else, especially a stranger. But Phil isn't family. He has no reason to defend mom. Maybe Joe will listen to him."

"Do you think he'd do it?" Fenton asked. "It might be asking too much," he pointed out.

"He told me yesterday that he wants to help," Frank replied.

"Alright, you ask him," Fenton agreed.

In a small apartment in a quiet Boston neighborhood a young woman sat at her kitchen table, sorting the day's mail. An envelope caught her eye; the handwriting though not seen in many years was as familiar as her own. With trembling hands she slit the envelope, pulling two bundles of folded paper from within. Her own name written on one, on the other a name she had never seen. Knowing all would be explained she opened the letter. A small gasp escaped as she read the letter. Though she had hoped she would be what Alex needed she had long ago realized it wasn't to be. Still he had helped her in the aftermath of her ordeal; she could do no less for him.

Moving to her desk she retrieved a writing tablet and wrote a short note, explaining who she was and giving her address. Sealing this and the letter Alex had entrusted to her in a new envelope she quickly addressed it as Alex had instructed: Joe Hardy, 400 Elm St. Bayport N.Y. Placing her own letter, with the address of Alex's lawyer, in the desk drawer she hurried to the corner to mail the letter.

TBC...

Please feed the muse with reviews.

A/N: Don't know if the books ever said their address so I just chose a number at random.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Flipping through the mail Laura paused as she came to an envelope addressed to Joe. She didn't recognize the handwriting and there was no return address. It was postmarked Boston, Joe didn't know anybody there. She was considering what to do with it when Joe came down the stairs.

As usual Joe had slept late. After getting dressed he had decided to go downstairs to find something to eat. Seeing his mother standing near the bottom of the stairs, sorting the mail, he hesitated.

Laura's heart ached as her son stood uncertainly on the stairs. As he turned to go back upstairs she remembered the letter. "Joe," she called, expecting him to turn around. "You have a letter," she told him when he only froze on the stairs, keeping his back to her.

Turning around Joe moved down the steps. Taking the letter from his mother's outstretched hand he mumbled his thanks before hurrying back up the stairs. Flopping down on his bed Joe lay back, one arm thrown over his face. He couldn't do this. How was he supposed to live here with the woman he held at least partially responsible for his suffering? He didn't really blame her for the whippings, well maybe a little for the second one if he was honest, but certainly not for the first. It was her last escape attempt; he knew that had to be the intention behind spiking their food that he couldn't get past. It was that action that had given Red the chance to take him into the kitchen and…he shuddered pushing the memories away.

"Hey Joe, you okay?"

Joe turned his head towards the door to see Frank standing there, a concerned look on his face. "Yeah, I guess."

Frank frowned, that hadn't sounded very convincing. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not if you're just going to defend her," Joe sullenly replied.

Frank sighed. He didn't blame Joe for doubting their mother but why did he have to be so stubborn? If he'd only listen to them he'd realize that Mom wasn't guilty of spiking their captors' food. Knowing that forcing Joe to do anything he didn't want to would only backfire he kept his mouth shut. "We can talk about whatever you want."

"Nothing to talk about," Joe mumbled. A part of him wanted to talk to Frank but he knew any discussion between them would lead to his brother trying to defend his mother.

"Okay," Frank said, stomping down on his disappointment. "I'm going over to Phil's later, you want to come along?"

"No thanks."

"Are you planning to stay inside the rest of the summer?" Joe hadn't been outside even once in the days since they'd come home. He had barely been out of his room.

"What if I am?"

Frank sat down on the bed. "Joe you need to get out of the house."

"Why? So people can stare at me?"

Frank blinked, he hadn't been expecting that. "What are you talking about?"

"I see them Frank, whenever I look out the window there's always somebody staring towards the house and pointing."

"Maybe they just think it's a nice house," Frank suggested. He knew it was lame but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Ever since the story had broke, even though most of the details weren't being reported, people had been walking through their neighborhood or driving slowly down the street. He guessed they were curious but it was creepy and rude and he didn't like it at all.

"I'm not stupid Frank," Joe growled.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Frank quietly apologized. "But Joe they don't really know anything, the news hasn't reported any details." He knew his brother hadn't seen or heard any of the news reports. He seemed to be avoiding them as much as he was avoiding their mother.

"It doesn't stop them from staring and pointing does it?" Joe miserably asked.

Frank sighed. "No, guess it doesn't. So that's it then? You're just going to hide inside for the rest of your life because a bunch of ignorant people don't have any decency?"

Joe blew out a breath. He knew his brother was right but he wasn't ready. Why couldn't Frank understand that? "I'm just not ready Frank, please."

Frank hated the misery he could hear in his brother's voice. Damn those men, he wished he could inflict as much pain on Tomlinson as Joe had suffered. They had no right to hurt innocent people like this. He wanted to keep talking but it was easy to see that Joe didn't, if he kept pushing it wouldn't end well. Casting his eyes around the room, hoping to find a distraction, he noticed the letter still clutched in Joe's hand. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the envelope.

Joe looked down, surprised to see the letter. He had forgotten all about it. "I don't know," he admitted. Sitting up, he opened the envelope and removed the letter. Unfolding it he began to read, the first sentence bringing a gasp.

"What is it?" Frank asked as he reached for the letter. He had heard of crime victims sometimes getting hate mail from strangers, was that what Joe was holding?

Joe pulled the letter out of Frank's reach. "It's," he hesitated, "from my penpal."

"Penpal?" Frank doubtfully asked. Why would Joe gasp if it was just a letter from a penpal? "I didn't know you had a penpal."

"School project," Joe shrugged. "I forgot about it."

Well that could explain the gasp, maybe. "I don't remember you saying anything."

Joe could easily hear the suspicion in Frank's voice, or maybe it was just his own guilty conscience. "You don't tell me about every assignment you have do you?" Joe countered.

Frank narrowed his eyes. "Answering a question with a question little brother?"

"Am I a suspect?" Joe asked. "You going to start checking my mail now? Maybe going through my emails?" Joe tossed the letter towards his brother. "Here, knock yourself out," he snapped.

Frank didn't even glance at the letter. "I don't want to read your mail Joe, either kind. I didn't mean to treat you like that I was just worried."

"Worried? About a letter?" Joe made no attempt to hide his confusion.

"I thought maybe it was from some weirdo or something."

Joe's confusion only grew with this answer. "What? Why would you think that?"

Frank shrugged, "It was stupid."

"Frank?"

"I've heard about crime victims getting hate mail and stuff. When you gasped like you did I thought maybe that's what the letter was."

"That's not stupid Frank," Joe protested.

"Here," Frank offered the letter back to his brother. Frank stood up and moved to the door. "Think about going to Phil's, okay?"

"I'll think about it," Joe agreed. The moment the door closed Joe's attention turned to the letter. He knew it wasn't right to lie to Frank but if he knew the truth he'd take the letter to their father and Joe would never get to read it. He wasn't sure why but he needed to see for himself what Alex had to say. He had known, with the first sentence, who the letter was from. Throwing it at Frank like he had was a risk but he had done it hoping his brother's guilt would keep him from looking at the letter. He felt bad manipulating Frank like that but what else could he do if he was going to read it for himself?

_Dear Joey,_

_I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from pet, I only ask that you read this for yourself. What you do with it after that is entirely up to you. I don't know if your father has told you anything. That he has found information about me I have no doubt. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when I discovered that the family Red had chosen was that of such a well known man as Fenton Hardy. _

_I'm not quite sure what to say to you Joey. I suppose an apology is the best place to begin. I am more sorry than I can tell you pet. You should never have been made to suffer as you were, either at my hands or Red's. You are a special boy Joey, never let anybody tell you differently. Throughout that day I could see your great capacity for love and forgiveness. Don't, please don't, let what Red and I did destroy that ability. Are you terribly confused pet?_

_Maybe I should give you a bit of background. I met Red, though then I knew him as Gary, when we were teenagers. We quickly became great friends, brothers you could almost say. Each supported the other as best we could during school and after in our travels. For many years we lived a happy existence. As we traveled the country, we saw many sights, both well known and quite obscure. For me it was the obscure sights I loved best but Gary was ever one for the famous and infamous. _

_Then came the day our happy life came to an end, at least it did for me. I don't believe Red ever felt any regret for the path we took. I don't know what inspired Red but one day he came to me talking about his_ _plans. Red liked children, as you unfortunately learned. Gender made no difference, only that they were innocent. I had known this for awhile but as Red had never acted on his desires I didn't feel there was anything I could do. That day he told me a horrible plan, the most awful plan I'd ever heard. He had seen a girl, just barely a teenager, and he wanted her. He was determined that he would have her and nobody would stand in his way. His intention was to break into her home, killing her entire family, before taking her with him. He planned to kill her when he was finished with her. _

_I didn't know what to do pet. Imagine if your brother told you of such a plan. Could you turn him into the police? Even if you could what could they do when he had yet to act? That was my problem. Red was like a brother and he hadn't actually broken any laws yet so what could the police do? That is if I could bring myself to turn him in. Needless to say I didn't tell anybody. Instead I tried to talk him out of his plan, to no avail. _

_Ultimately, to my own horror, I accompanied him on his path. I could, I told myself, prevent him from carrying out the plan. The moment we were through that first door I knew it would never happen. At that point, as guilty as he, I realized I could only try to minimize the damage._

Joe's hands shook as he read the letter. Laying the paper aside he stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. How could anybody plan to do that? He couldn't imagine Frank ever doing something so horrible but he supposed he could understand Alex's dilemma. How do you, when faced with the reality, turn your brother over to the police? Glancing towards his room he could see the letter lying on his bed. Did he want to read anymore, he asked himself. No, honestly he didn't, but he had to know the whole story. He deserved to know.

Sitting on his bed once more, he again took up the letter.

_It was, I admit, my idea to stay with the family that whole day. The whipping boy aspect was mine as well. I told you I like obscure things, which includes knowledge and the whipping boy isn't very well known. I hoped by the end of the day Red would realize the risks of carrying out his plan. He did but only partially. We had many arguments that day. Though they saw us in heated conversation the family didn't actually hear any of it. I couldn't dissuade Red from taking the child with us but I was able to convince him not to kill anybody. I pointed out that the police would look for us a lot harder if people died._

_Beginning that day and spanning several years Red and I attacked many families like your own. With each family I hoped it would be the last but my friend would never be sated for long. Each family was different of course but yet the events played out in similar ways. As we attempted with you each time we would take the whipping child with us. We did, I promise, return them after three days even if their families contacted the police. Unfortunately, no matter how I tried, Red always managed to have his way with the child. I hated it, seeing the light of innocence fade from their eyes as my friend hurt them in ways nobody should ever experience, least of all a child. There was nothing I could do though. I was in as deep as Red after the first attack and I feared that if I left him he would begin killing as he had originally planned._

Dropping the letter Joe jumped to his feet. He barely made it to the toilet in time. That would have happened to him if the police hadn't intervened. He wouldn't read anymore, he decided, he couldn't. He rinsed his mouth and returned to his bedroom. Picking up the letter, he had every intention of taking it to his dad. Something, curiosity, stupidity, he didn't know, stopped him. Before he knew it he was once more seated on the bed, reading.

_I don't know how the police knew we were at your house. I suspect your mother managed to get a message out, maybe that last phone call. However it happened I was never so glad in my life. I didn't lie pet; you are a very special boy. The thought of Red hurting you as he had the others hurt me more than I could say, and I knew I wouldn't be able to stop him. When I saw the SWAT team I didn't see police or my freedom being lost. I saw only one thing Joey, a chance to save you from the fate of the others before you. I knew Red wouldn't give in; he would try to shoot it out with the police. I couldn't kill him pet, he was my brother in all but name, but I could let him die to protect you. No matter how much I will miss him, I can't regret my actions, not when they saved you the horror he would have visited upon you. I hope you_ _can forgive me pet, someday, for my part in your suffering. _

_Yours,_

_Alex_

_P.S. I would love to hear from you, though I understand if you don't wish to correspond. If you do you can send the letter to my friend Wendy. She will forward the letter to my lawyer who will bring it to me. This is, I regret, the only way we can converse freely. Her address is included on the back of this letter._

Turning the letter over Joe found the address just as Alex had said he would. Folding the letter, he placed it back in the envelope before slipping it into his desk drawer. He didn't know yet if he would respond.

TBC...

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	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"I don't want you to go over there," Edith Cohen informed her son.

Phil sighed. He understood his mother's feelings, honestly he did, but that didn't make the over protectiveness any easier to deal with. He counted to ten before replying. "Nothing is going to happen to me mom."

"You can't know that," Edith countered. "The last time you went over there I'm sure you weren't expecting to spend the day as a hostage to a couple of lunatics."

"No I wasn't," Phil admitted. "But how often do you think something like that is going to happen? I need to go mom, for myself as much as for Frank and Joe."

"Now you see I don't understand that either. Why do you need to talk to Joe? Convincing him of his mother's innocence should fall to his family."

Phil shook his head. "Only he won't listen to them, he thinks they're just defending Mrs. Hardy. Frank thinks he might listen to me because I don't have any reason to lie to him. Besides I need to face my own fears, maybe then the nightmares will stop." Phil could have kicked himself, he hadn't meant to let that out.

"Nightmares? Oh baby why didn't you tell me?" Edith crooned as she wrapped her arms around him. "I could ask Dr. Brewer if he could recommend somebody for you."

Phil squirmed out of her hold. "I don't need a shrink mom, but I do think seeing the house will help a lot."

Edith sighed, resigned to what would happen. She had never been able to argue her husband away from something he was determined to do, unfortunately for her Phil was as stubborn as his father. "Alright, you can go," she finally agreed.

Phil leaned down, kissing her cheek and giving her an encouraging smile. "Thanks mom, I'll be home for supper."

"You had better be." Edith said, giving him an indulgent smile.

"Mr. Tomlinson you are being charged with breaking and entering, unlawful imprisonment, attempted kidnapping and assault of a minor," Judge Henry Jacobs read out the charges in a solemn tone. "How do you plead?"

"Your honor my client pleads not guilty," Broderick stated for the record.

"So entered," Judge Jacobs intoned. "Now to the matter of bail."

"Your honor given the seriousness of the crimes, the defendant's wealth and lack of ties to the area the state request that no bail be given," the prosecutor Evan Sanders said.

Jacobs nodded, "Mr. Lovell?"

Broderick stood again. "Your honor while it is true my client has no ties to the area it is also true that he has no criminal record. Denying him bail would be a clear violation of his constitutional rights."

"Hmmm," the judge looked down, carefully perusing the files in front of him. Privately he agreed with Sanders but the defendant did enjoy certain rights. "Bail is set at," he looked down again, calculating, "two million dollars." Banging the gavel down he signaled the end of the hearing.

Alex smiled as the bailiff appeared to escort him back to the jail; he'd be out by this afternoon. If his father wouldn't go the bail he had his own money. He would let the old man pay if he liked, after all who was Alex to deny his father the salve for his guilt. If he hadn't insisted on bringing his mother home before she was ready Annaleise Tomlinson would still be alive.

True to his prediction Alex walked out of the Bayport jail that afternoon free to go where he liked until the trial; that had been three days ago. He had nearly laughed when the police chief solemnly informed him that they'd be watching him. Did they honestly think he was stupid? Of course they'd be watching, so would the feds for that matter. It must really rankle for the feds right now. All of those open cases and they couldn't bring him up on charges because the state of New York had first crack at him, per the judges orders. It had been nearly a week since he had given the letter to his attorney, Joey must have gotten it by now. Alex wondered if he would reply.

Fenton was once more shut in his office, reading through the material Sam had gathered on Tomlinson and Wyndham. God he needed a break, Fenton thought as he leaned back in his chair trying to relax. As he sat, eyes closed, his thoughts wandered to a conversation he'd had with Laura a few days earlier.

"_Laura are the boys here?" Fenton asked as he came into the kitchen._

_Seeing the anxious look on her husband's face Laura felt her heart stutter. "Yes, what's wrong?"_

_Fenton let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Closing the distance he wrapped his arms around his wife. "I don't want you to panic darling," he began in a soothing tone, "but Tomlinson was let out on bail."_

"_What?" Laura gasped as her face drained of color. "How could they let him out Fenton? Is he going to come after Joe?"_

"_The judge didn't have any choice but to set bail. He set it very high but obviously it wasn't high enough." It wasn't easy but Fenton managed to keep the anger from his voice. "I won't lie to you love, he might try to get to Joe but I won't let him hurt our son again, I promise."_

"_Don't," Laura said, drawing away from him. "Don't make promises you can't keep Fenton."_

"_You don't trust me to protect our family?" Fenton couldn't help feeling hurt at the lack of confidence._

"_Oh Fenton, of course I trust you," Laura assured her husband. "But that man spent years terrorizing families without being caught you can't possibly promise you won't let him hurt Joe again." She hugged him close. "Oh Fenton, I know you'll do your very best to protect all of us but your only one man darling."_

_Relief flooded Fenton. He had been afraid for a moment. He knew he couldn't handle it if Laura lost faith in him, in his abilities. Fenton knew that most people saw him as a strong, capable man but he alone knew the truth. His strength came from the love and faith his Laura bestowed upon him, without her he would be nothing._

Fenton forced his thoughts away from the path they'd wandered down. The more evidence they could find against Tomlinson the better. If he was going to keep his promise to Laura he needed to focus on that.

"Hey Joe, you want to hang out with me and Phil?" Frank asked.

Joe looked up from his desk. "I'm kind of busy," he said with a shake of his head.

Frank frowned. "Come on little brother, we could play your new video game," he tempted the younger boy.

"You're not going away until I agree, are you?" Joe asked, a small smile playing about his lips. He was glad that Phil still wanted to come over. It would have been awful for Frank to lose a good friend because of Alex and Red.

"And everybody thinks I'm the smart one," Frank teased.

Joe chuckled. "Alright I'll get the game and meet you downstairs."

"Did you convince Joe to come out of his room?" Phil asked as Frank came back into his room. He knew his friend was worried about the younger boy. Frank had told him how Joe spent most of his time in his room, though he was eating with the family again. He still hadn't forgiven his mother nor would he give his father or brother a chance to tell them what they had learned. Phil wasn't sure they should give Joe all the details, it had been enough to make him sick and he hadn't been targeted by their captors. He wasn't sure the younger teen would be able to handle the truth of what the two men had planned for him.

"Yeah, he's going to get his new video game and meet us downstairs." Frank shot another worried glance towards his brother's room.

Phil squeezed Frank's shoulder. "He's going to be okay Frank," he assured the other boy.

Frank nodded and led the way downstairs. Joe joined them a few minutes later. For the next hour the three boys played the game, for a time forgetting all of the problems two psychos had brought into their lives.

"I'm going to get a drink, you two want anything?" Frank asked, pushing himself to his feet.

"A coke please," Phil replied.

"Joe?"

Joe looked up, "Coke I guess."

"Be right back," Frank said. Giving Phil a significant look he left the room.

"You doing okay?" Phil asked.

Joe shrugged. "I guess."

"It must have been a shock."

"Huh?" Joe shot him a confused look.

"What those two men did to all those people," Phil replied. "Didn't anybody tell you?" He knew, of course, that they hadn't.

Joe shook his head. Alex had told him but he couldn't very well tell that to Phil or anybody else.

"Oh, then I guess you don't know what they figured out either."

"What they figured out?"

"Maybe I shouldn't say anything," Phil hedged. "I don't want to upset you."

"Why would I get upset?"

"Well it's about your mother," Phil hesitantly replied.

Joe sighed. "I get it now. You coming over, wanting me to hang out with you and Frank, it's all just a ploy so you can defend my mother. Frank and dad can't make me listen to them so they got you to do it."

"Why won't you listen to them?" Phil asked, not denying the accusation.

"Why? Because it's her fault; when she spiked their food Red took me into the kitchen and he…he…" Joe was breathing fast now as the panic reared within him, flooding him with fear as he remembered that day, the feel of Red's hands, the knife digging into his skin, the sensation of a mad man's tongue swiping at the droplets of blood.

"Joe?" Phil wasn't sure what to do. He could see the younger boy was panicking but he wasn't sure how to stop it. He yelled for Frank.

Frank, hearing the fear in Phil's voice, ran into the room. For a moment he froze and then the training from his first aid course kicked in. Turning back towards the kitchen he nearly flattened his father. "Need a paper bag," he said as he hurried past him.

When Frank returned he found Fenton kneeling on the floor next to Joe, speaking to him in a calm voice as he tried to bring him out of his panicked state. "Here," he said thrusting the paper bag towards his father's hand.

Fenton took the bag and quickly positioned it over Joe's mouth and nose. "It's okay son, you're going to be okay Joe," he said as the boy's breathing began to slow to a more normal pace. He continued to whisper, soothing words meant to comfort as Joe's panic ebbed. "Better?" he asked as he removed the bag.

Joe nodded. "Sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"Nothing to be sorry about son," Fenton assured him. "You want to talk about it?"

Joe shook his head, eyes bright with fear. "Can I go back to my room?"

"Don't you want to finish your game?" Fenton asked. He didn't know what had brought on the panic attack but he didn't think retreating to his room was the best way for Joe to handle it.

"We finished already."

Fenton sighed. "Alright son, you can go." The words had barely left his mouth before Joe jumped to his feet, nearly running up the stairs. Fenton sadly watched him go. He turned back to the others. "What brought that on?"

Phil looked away, he felt awful for causing Joe to suffer a panic attack. "I mentioned what Frank told me about those men. I thought it might get him to listen, you know make him curious. When I mentioned Mrs. Hardy he figured out pretty quickly that I was going to defend her. I asked him why he wouldn't listen to you two and he started talking about Red taking him into the kitchen that was when he started panicking. I'm really sorry Mr. Hardy, I didn't mean to get him that upset," Phil apologized.

Fenton squeezed his shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for Phil. I knew you were going to try to help, Frank ran the idea past me first. You couldn't have known Joe would panic, none of us expected it really." He pushed himself to his feet and looked towards the stairs. "Maybe I should see if Dr. Bates could recommend somebody Joe could talk to."

TBC...

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	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Three days later, in a New York apartment, Alex eagerly opened a letter his lawyer had brought him. Though he was out of jail he had decided it would be best to continue moving mail through his lawyer. The excuse he gave was that he couldn't be sure reporters wouldn't resort to stealing his mail, especially those who worked for tabloids.

_Dear Alex,_

_I wasn't sure I was going to write you but I don't know what to do. You're the only one who can understand. You know what Red did in the kitchen, what he would have done later. I've tried to get past my anger at my mother but all I can think is if she hadn't spiked your food Red couldn't have done anything._

Alex smiled in satisfaction; he could almost hear the anger lifting from the page.

_Maybe it'd be easier if they didn't keep trying to defend her. They know what happened to those other kids. That means they know what would have happened to me. How can they expect me to listen to them defend her? Even Frank has tried to defend her and he was there! I don't know what to do Alex. They won't leave me alone. Today they even brought Phil into it. He came over and Frank convinced me to go downstairs and play some video games. Frank left us alone to get some drinks for us. That was when Phil tried to talk to me about my mother. All of a sudden I was back in the kitchen. I could feel the knife and Red's hands, his tongue. It was awful! I could barely breathe and I thought I was going to pass out. I'm sorry, I shouldn't tell you this stuff. Pretty pathetic huh? I don't even know why I thought I should tell you of all people._

_That's not true. I know why. I know you'll understand and well you tried to protect me, in your own way. I can't trust anything they tell me Alex. They want me to forgive mom and can't understand why I can't. You helped me before, help me now, please._

_Joey_

Alex laughed. Oh this was perfect. If he played this right he would spend a minimum amount of time in prison. He wasn't kidding himself, he knew prison time was inevitable. The only question was how long he would spend behind bars. The more he could do to convince the judge and jury that he had only gone along with Red in a misguided attempt to protect the children the better for him.

Joe sat in the psychiatrist's office, arms crossed over his chest. When his father had told him about the appointment Dr. Bates had set up for him he had been so angry. He didn't need to talk to some stranger about what had happened. His father had insisted though, said he needed the help, that he was worried about him. Joe wasn't fooled. It wasn't him his father was worried about. He only wanted his happy family back. He didn't suppose he could blame the man for that and he wished he could give him what he wanted. But he couldn't, not when it meant forgiving his mother for the pain she had caused him.

"What are you thinking Joe?" Dr. Carpenter quietly asked.

"This is a waste of time," Joe replied in a surly tone.

"Why do you say that?" When his colleague had told him of his patient and what he had suffered Steve Carpenter had been sure he could help. Now seeing his newest patient was the most stubborn he'd ever encountered he was less certain. At the very least he suspected it would require more time than he had originally supposed.

Following introductions the two had sat opposite one another, silence filling the room with a heavy presence. He had said nothing, waiting for the boy to talk first. After thirty minutes it was clear the teen wouldn't volunteer anything.

"I'm not going to forgive her."

"Is that why you think you're here?"

"My dad and my brother want me to forgive her so we can be a happy family again. They couldn't make me so now it's your turn." Joe was sure he was right.

"By her you mean your mother?" Steve calmly asked.

Joe nodded.

"Why won't you forgive her?"

Joe didn't replied, only staring at the doctor his blue eyes filled with pain.

Though he tried to draw the boy out, Steve made no further progress that day. Walking the boy to the door he escorted him to the desk where another appointment was set for the following week.

"Dr. Carpenter could I speak to you for a minute?" Fenton asked as the man turned back towards his office.

Joe didn't want to hear them discussing him. Without a word to either man he moved into the waiting room and sat down. Thankfully it was empty.

Steve sighed. "I can't tell you anything we discussed," he reminded the worried father.

"Did he tell you anything?"

"A little but I can't tell you…"

"It's alright doctor," Fenton interrupted. "I'm not asking you to tell me I just wanted to know if he had at least talked to you. He won't discuss what happened with any of us and after the panic attack he had the other day I've been even more worried."

"I can understand that Mr. Hardy and I do sympathize, truly I do. He didn't say much," Steve admitted. "Frankly he's quite resistant to the therapy."

Fenton's shoulders sagged. "Then you don't think it'll do any good?"

"I didn't say that," Steve replied. "I only meant to caution you not to expect miracles from therapy. It will take time and the more Joe resists the longer it will take. I've made him an appointment for a week from today."

"Not sooner?"

"Given his resistance I think any sooner would be counterproductive. Aside from that therapy is generally more useful if the patient is given time to process each session."

"I see. Thank you doctor," Fenton said, shaking the man's hand.

When they arrived home Joe was surprised to find a letter lying on his desk. Picking it up he saw the same Boston postmark as before and knew it was from Alex.

_My dear Joey,_

_Never call yourself pathetic! You are special Joey, remember that. I don't know in what way I can help. I can certainly understand why your brother and father want you to forgive your mother. I can also understand your feelings, perhaps more easily than those of your family. _

_I don't believe your mother ever intended for you to be hurt in the way you were. I'm sure she thought she could succeed in getting help when she passed that message to your friend Phil. Frankly I can't blame her for the attempt, given what I know of Red's propensities. _

_As for the food, there I don't know what to think. Certainly she knew the risks but again she likely thought it worth the risks. She couldn't have known, I don't think, what Red would do with the opportunity. I've been thinking about it all pet and honestly I'm not sure she's guilty. _

Joe could hardly believe his eyes. He hadn't expected Alex to defend her too.

_Your friend made a good point; Red didn't get sick. Then again Red did change drinks, perhaps that is the explanation. Bah! It would be so much easier if we could speak more directly. No don't even think of phone calls or a meeting, neither would be possible. Though maybe…no you wouldn't want that, would you? I hesitate to suggest this but perhaps we could communicate more directly through emails. I won't push you pet, it is entirely your decision. If you never wish to hear from me again, or only want letters I will abide by your wishes. It's the least I can do. However, if you ever find you need to speak to me more quickly than a letter allows you can contact me by email. I will always be here for you Joey, in whatever capacity you choose. Never feel that you can't talk to me. I will never consider anything you have to say as pathetic. _

_Yours,_

_Alex_

_P.S. My email address is: sven at gali . com  
><em>

Joe read the letter two more times. Was Alex serious? Did he really think his mother might be innocent?

TBC...

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	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Joshua Strand, Special Agent FBI, hesitantly knocked on the door to hell, otherwise known as the SAC's office.

"Come in," a deep voice called.

Bracing himself, Strand opened the door. "Do you have a moment Mr. Clayton?" He knew the senior agent wasn't going to be happy with the news he had, not that the man was ever happy.

"Is there a problem Strand?"

"Yes sir, I'm afraid there is."

Levi Clayton sighed. Problems usually meant somebody was going to escape justice. "Sit down and tell me what's going on," he invited.

Strand opened the file he carried as he sat down. "It's about the Tomlinson cases."

"Tomlinson? That'd be the psycho that attacked a dozen families before he was captured?"

"Yes sir," Strand confirmed.

"Don't tell me there's a problem with the evidence," Clayton rumbled, his deep voice making it sound nearly like a growl.

"Not the evidence, no sir. It's the witnesses sir, they're all refusing to testify."

Clayton stared at the other man. His eyes were lit with incomprehension, as if the other agent had spoken another language. "Excuse me Agent Strand but I thought you said the witnesses are refusing to…"

"Testify, yes sir," Strand reluctantly confirmed.

"For God's sake man, why would they do that?"

"They all put it differently sir but it boils down to this; with Wyndham dead they don't see any reason to resurrect the memories."

Clayton shook his head. This was why he preferred dogs, they at least made sense. "They do realize that Tomlinson was as responsible as Wyndham for the pain their children suffered?"

"They don't see it that way sir, or rather the children don't see it that way."

"Explain."

Strand sighed, this was not going to go over well. "Every one of the children are convinced that Tomlinson tried to protect them from Wyndham. When I pointed out that Tomlinson hurt them too they all responded with a variation along the lines of he only punished them when they deserved it. None of them are willing to testify against Tomlinson, whom they see as their protector."

"What about the parents and siblings?"

"They're not willing to testify if the targeted child won't. I got the impression that they're afraid of causing another rift in their families. I can understand it in a way," Joshua admitted.

"Excuse me," Clayton snapped.

Joshua quailed under the disapproving glance of his boss but he didn't back down. "I mean sir that these men all but destroyed their families. They've managed to recover, to varying degrees, and I can understand why they wouldn't want to disrupt that recovery."

"Damn," Clayton cursed. "Do we have any chance of a conviction without their testimony?"

Strand shook his head. "DNA and fingerprints were found at each of the crime scenes but all that proves is they were present in the homes. If the families won't testify we can't place that evidence in the proper context."

"They could be subpoenaed."

"I don't think any Federal prosecutor will do that," Strand argued. "If they still refuse to testify it would force the judge to find them in contempt and the government would come off looking like bullies."

Clayton rocked back in his seat. For five minutes he stared at the ceiling in silence. "The Hardy case?" It wasn't much, a state level case, but at least the man would spend some time in prison.

"As far as I'm aware it's going forward."

"Find out," Clayton ordered. "That man can't be allowed to walk free."

"You seem agitated."

Joe froze, letting the ball he'd been bouncing fall to the floor. Turning to the shrink he stared, waiting for the man to say something else.

"Did something happen in the last week? Something to upset you?" Dr. Carpenter quietly asked.

"I got a letter from A…uh, somebody I know." Joe could have kicked himself for the near slip. He still wasn't sure what he thought of the communication with Alex but knew he couldn't tell anybody else about it.

"The letter upset you?"

"Not exactly. It, I guess it confused me."

"How so?"

"He said that my mom might not be guilty."

Steve frowned. "I don't understand Joe, isn't that what other people have tried to tell you?"

Joe nodded.

"Then why should your friend saying it confuse you?"

Joe shrugged. He didn't know how to explain it without revealing his secret.

"Do you think your friend might be right?" Steve asked when it became clear Joe wasn't going to reply.

"I don't know what to think," Joe reluctantly admitted.

"Maybe it's time for you to listen to what your family has to say," Steve gently suggested.

"I already know what they want to say," Joe snapped.

"And you're not ready to hear it?"

Joe shook his head.

"Why do you think that is?" A shrug from his young patient was the only response. "Is there a reason you need to blame your mother?"

"Why would I need to blame my mom?"

"You tell me." This was quickly proving to be his most difficult case to date, fortunately Steve had been blessed with a great deal of patience.

"I'm not being unfair."

"I didn't say you were."

"But you think I am, everybody thinks I'm being unfair."

"Are you psychic now?"

"What? No, what are you talking about?" Joe demanded. He was becoming more confused, not less, and he didn't like it.

"You tell me what I'm thinking and claim to know what everybody else is thinking as well. If you're not psychic then how can you know?"

Joe glared at the man. "If they don't think I'm being unfair then why do they keep trying to get me to listen to them?"

"Your dad tells me you have plans to become a detective."

"So?" Joe crossed his arms over his chest.

"Maybe your father and your brother just want you to look at all the facts," Steve suggested.

"Because they think I'm being unfair."

Steve sighed. This young man was going to test his patience to the limit. "Or because it's what a detective should do." He glanced at the clock. "I think that's enough for today."

Joe jumped to his feet, eager to leave.

"I want you to think about what we discussed today."

Joe nodded. Without another word he left the office. He had a lot to think about.

TBC...

Sorry it's so short.

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	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Mary Collins took a deep breath as she knocked on the door of her daughter's apartment. Agent Strand had contacted her again. She could understand his desire to see Alex Tomlinson punished for his crimes. If there had been no one else to consider she would have willingly testified against the man, with a smile on her face. But she had to consider Wendy. Five years ago her daughter had been an angry young girl. She had been nearly consumed by rage. Rage towards her parents for not protecting her better, rage towards the red-haired man who had sexually assaulted her, rage towards her sisters because they had been left alone.

The only one she hadn't directed her rage towards had been Alex Tomlinson. For some reason the young girl hadn't blamed him, not even for the pain he had caused her with his so-called punishments. Wendy insisted Alex had never lied to her, to any of them, and had done his best to protect her from Red. Mary shook her head, she knew now that his name was Gary Wyndham, but she had thought of him as Red for five years it was difficult to think of him as Gary or even Wyndham.

Wendy's insistence regarding Alex had angered her father, Mary's husband, as much as it had saddened Mary herself. A year after the attack Dan had moved out. He claimed Mary had become so focused on helping Wendy that she had forgotten the existence of the other children. At the time Mary had denied the accusation. Later after she finally began her own therapy sessions she realized he was right. She hadn't stopped helping Wendy of course, but she learned to balance Wendy's needs against those of the rest of her family. This had proven to be the best thing she could have done as it led to the whole family eventually healing, as far as they could. She and Dan hadn't been able to save their marriage but they had managed to salvage a friendship from the wreckage. Today they were growing closer, Mary even found herself harboring a hope that they might remarry at some point.

"Hi mom," Wendy greeted her mother with an uncomfortable smile.

"Hello dear," Mary hugged her daughter. She didn't miss the way the girl stiffened in her arms. Quickly releasing her hold she stepped back, waiting for her daughter to invite her into the apartment proper.

"Come on in," Wendy reluctantly invited, moving to one side allowing her mother to pass her. Closing the door she turned around, facing the older woman. "What's going on?" she asked. She didn't mean to be rude, but the meeting the other day with Agent Strand had brought up some bad memories. Her sleep since then had been plagued by nightmares, leaving her tense and on edge.

Mary sighed. "Agent Strand contacted me again."

Wendy scowled. "I'm not testifying against Alex." She placed her hand on the door knob. "So if that's all you came for…"

"It isn't, not exactly anyway." Mary moved to the table in the small dining nook and sat down, putting her purse on the floor beside her. "Please sit down Wendy."

Clearly reluctant Wendy sat opposite her mother at the small table. "What do you mean?"

"Agent Strand is a very persuasive man."

Wendy shrugged; he hadn't persuaded her of anything.

"Enough so that I promised I would discuss the possibility of testifying one more time with you. Don't worry dear I won't push you but I did promise to talk to you…"

Wendy looked down at the table, wiping away an imaginary piece of dust. After a moment she looked up, her voice was firm when she spoke. "Mom we could talk until we're both old and grey, I'm not going to change my mind."

"I know dear, so I as I said I won't push you. I would like to know one thing though."

"What?" Wendy asked in a resigned tone.

"I know you believe Alex did his best to protect you, but I've never understood why you believe that. Could you explain it to me?" Mary hated the way her voice sounded, so pleading and small, it reminded her of that dark day.

Wendy sighed. "If I tell you Mom, you have to promise to never tell another soul."

Mary didn't like the sound of that but knew that without her promise Wendy would never answer the question. Hesitantly she agreed to her daughter's terms.

Wendy wasn't worried about her mother going back on her promise. It had taken a long time for them to regain a semblance of the relationship they'd once shared. Her mother wouldn't risk doing anything that would disrupt that relationship. "Those three days when I was with Red and Alex were the worst in my life. I wanted to die Mom; maybe I would have, except Alex wouldn't let me be consumed by the pain and shame I felt."

"What do you mean Alex wouldn't let you?" Mary knew Wendy hadn't returned home miraculously past the torment she'd suffered for those days. What could Alex have said to her during the three days she'd been gone that had such a profound effect? She said as much to the young woman.

"It wasn't what he said during that time, though he did try to keep Red away from me. Unfortunately he had to sleep and I think Red may have helped him a bit with that," Wendy bitterly informed her.

Mary gasped, realizing what her daughter must mean. "You've talked to him since then?"

Wendy nodded. "Many times. It wasn't therapy that helped me Mom, it was Alex. I even entertained the idea, for a short time, that I could save Alex from Red. If only I could become what he needed." Wendy sighed; looking out the window for a moment before bringing her attention back to her mother's shocked face. "Alex kind of talked me past that notion. He appreciated the sentiment he said but he couldn't abandon Red or the children his friend would hurt even worse if he weren't around. I haven't heard from him in years," she added, lying to her mom. She consoled herself with the thought that it would only worry her mother if she knew the correspondence with Alex had resumed to a limited extent.

"But he helped you?" Mary asked once past the initial shock.

"He did," Wendy confirmed. "It was Alex that made me see I couldn't blame myself for what Red did. He said his friend's actions were a result of the man's own warped mind. There wasn't anything I had done to earn his attention, other than being what I was, an innocent child. Mom," Wendy continued as tears streaked her cheeks, "it was Alex that made me realize that if I let what happened destroy me and my family then Red would get what he wanted. It was that realization that caused the turn around in my attitude."

"That was why you started to truly recover and with you the family? I just thought the therapy was finally working," Mary admitted.

"That's what you were supposed to think," Wendy said, a small, sad smile appearing on her face. "I didn't think you or daddy would like knowing I was talking to Alex, even it was only in letters."

"No I guess we wouldn't have," Mary couldn't deny it. "So that's why you won't consider testifying against Alex?"

"I can't Mom. Yes he did some horrible things too and in a way his actions allowed Red to cause me and others a lot of pain. Still if it hadn't been for Alex I don't think I would have ever recovered. I know I wouldn't have been able to handle getting an apartment of my own, even if it is only a few blocks from home, without Alex's help. You understand don't you Mom?"

Mary nodded. She knew Alex had probably had an ulterior motive in helping her daughter, the man was manipulative if nothing else, but she couldn't argue with the results. Nor could she blame Wendy for a reluctance to allow the man to be punished after he had, in her daughter's eyes, saved her. "I wonder if he ever wrote to any of the other children?"

"I don't know," Wendy lied. "It wouldn't surprise me though; he would want to help them too."

"No, I wouldn't be surprised either," Mary agreed. "Are you coming over for dinner on Sunday?" she asked as she stood up.

"I wouldn't miss your Sunday roast for anything Mom," Wendy smiled.

Hardy Home: Bayport

_I just got back from therapy. Dr. Carpenter told me I shouldn't assume I know what others are thinking. He said maybe I should look at everything like a detective. What do you think?_

Joe hit send. As soon as he had arrived home he had hurried to his room. Logging into his messenger account he had started a conversation with Alex. They had sent a few emails back and forth and then Joe had suggested that instant messaging would be even faster.

**That might be a good idea Joey. **

_I guess, but I don't see how it will change anything. It's pretty clear that Mom spiked your drink._

**She might have but we both know she had good reason.**

Alex smirked at the screen. The Hardys would have kittens if they knew he was the one convincing Joe of his mother's innocence. He had to be careful though, let the boy come to the conclusion in his own time rather than risk him realizing that Alex had known all along his mother was innocent. Allowing Red the chance to be alone with the chosen children at their homes had been the only way he could keep the man from raping them in front of their families. That would be a trauma none of them would ever recover from.

_Don't defend her!_

**Calm down pet. I'm not defending her, only pointing out the facts. Did you know my mother was a psychiatrist?**

_Is that why you think I should listen to Dr. Carpenter?_

**I suppose but I also know, because of my mother that being a psychiatrist doesn't mean a person can be trusted completely.**

_What do you mean?_

Joe chewed his lip. He wondered if Alex's mother had hurt him. He hoped not.

***sigh* My mother had issues pet, she suffered from severe depression. The hospital knew that but they still let her work, no matter how much damage she might inadvertently cause her patients. **

_Did she hurt them? Did she hurt you?_

Alex smiled. He had to admit he enjoyed having somebody show concern for him.

**Not that I know of and not in the way you mean. She had a breakdown which eventually led to her suicide. I was the one who found her. I was fourteen. So yes she hurt me but I don't think she meant to. Just remember when you're talking to Dr. Carpenter that while he is trying to help he may have his own unseen problems. Don't assume that because he's a psychiatrist he can't be wrong.**

_*nods* I won't forget Alex. Somebody's coming, talk to you later?_

**Anytime you need pet, I'll always be here.**

_Thanks Alex, bye for now._

Alex leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

TBC...

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	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The bottle of aspirin stared out from the kitchen cabinet. Was this what she had used? Joe shook his head, he didn't even know if it was possible to poison somebody with aspirin. After talking to Alex the teen had spent a lot of time thinking about that day, particularly his mother's insistence on her innocence. She had seemed sincere but maybe she was just afraid of what would happen if she admitted her guilt.

Waking tonight from yet another nightmare Joe had come downstairs with the intention of getting something to drink. Opening the cabinet he had seen the aspirin and all thoughts of a drink were wiped away. Dr. Carpenter's words returned to him then along with the things he and Alex had discussed.

If his mother had used the aspirin how many would it have taken? Joe would have to check but he was guessing it would take a lot. She wouldn't have been able to crush them, not with Red in the room. That meant the pills would have needed to be dropped in the soda whole. He supposed they could have dissolved in the carbonated drink.

What about the taste? The bitterness of aspirin was pretty noticeable. Would the soda be able to hide that? Again Joe didn't have the answer but if it would have required the amount he suspected then he didn't think the flavor could have been hidden. Okay, so aspirin hadn't been ruled out but it was doubtful. He'd know for certain after he did a little research online.

So what else could have been used? Closing the cabinet door Joe began to search the kitchen, looking for anything that could have been used to make the home invaders sick. The need for quiet made for a longer search time but it was no less thorough, perhaps the added time made the search more thorough in fact. In any event the only other possible poison he could find was the ipecac syrup in the first aid kit.

Joe would never forget the one and only time he had been given ipecac. He had only been four at the time and very curious. He had found what he thought was candy in his mother's purse. It hadn't been. The small bottle held medicine intended for his mother's migraines. Joe hadn't known that of course and after working the lid open he had quickly swallowed several pills.

Fortunately his mother had caught him before he could swallow more. Joe clearly remembered his mother reaching for the first aid kit and removing the small bottle of ipecac, though he hadn't known the name at the time. He chuckled as he remembered his mother telling him the name later when he asked and his misunderstanding it as ippy hack. It had been a joke in the family for years, though Joe still maintained his name for it was more accurate. He also remembered how quickly the syrup had made him vomit up the pills he'd swallowed. No, if his mother had put ipecac in the drinks Alex would have been sick immediately, not an hour later.

Had she been telling the truth all along? It was beginning to look that way. But if his mother hadn't spiked Alex's drink, did that mean Red had? What could he have used? He would have had access only to the things in the kitchen, or would he? Joe didn't, after all know what Red might have had on him. He could have carried something with him. Maybe he had even planned it ahead of time. From what Alex had told him it was possible. First though he needed to find out if his mother could have used the aspirin to poison anybody.

"Joe are you alright?"

At the sound of his mother's voice Joe spun towards the door, nearly dropping the ipecac he still held.

Laura's eyes widened when she saw what Joe held. She rushed forward, taking the bottle from his hand. "Joe, honey, please tell me you didn't take something?" On some level she knew she was jumping to conclusions but with everything that had happened Laura thought her fears were justified.

"What?" Joe looked between the bottle and his mother in confusion. His own blue eyes widening he rushed to assure her he hadn't taken anything.

"Then why did you have the ipecac?"

"Oh, I was actually looking for some aspirin," Joe lied. He wasn't ready to admit where his thoughts had taken him. "When I saw the ipecac I started thinking about that time you had to give it to me."

Relief surprised a laugh from Laura. "I'm sorry I thought…you said you needed some aspirin. Do you have a headache?"

"A little one." After the start his mother had given him it was even true Joe thought.

"Why didn't you get some from your medicine cabinet?" Laura asked as she retrieved the aspirin and a glass of water.

"It didn't start until I was downstairs," Joe truthfully replied.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Laura asked, handing him the pills and water. And just like that the easy conversation ended.

Joe tensed, "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled. Throwing the aspirin back he followed with a long drink of water, washing them down. Setting the glass on the counter he turned away from his mother and left the room.

Laura rubbed her forehead. She blinked rapidly, she wouldn't cry, not again. Yes Joe had turned away from her in the end but the conversation before that had been easier than any they'd had since that day. It wasn't much, that was true, but it was a start and Laura decided she would take what she could get.

Upstairs, Joe lay in his bed, unable to sleep. He considered turning his computer on but he didn't want his mother to hear him. The conversation had been surprisingly normal and for a few minutes he had been able to forget his mother's part in what had happened. Joe hadn't realized until that moment how much he had missed the easy relationship he shared with his mother. With his mother he had always been able to relax. There was no feeling of being judged nor did he fear she would find him lacking.

His father though, seemed to be watching him, judging his abilities and comparing them to his own and Frank's. The man had never said or done anything to make Joe feel this way. Maybe it was just because he was his father and like most sons Joe thought of his father as larger than life. It was a difficult image to live up to, maybe impossible.

"Everything alright love?" Fenton asked as Laura climbed back into bed.

"I'm sorry darling, I didn't mean to wake you."

Fenton pulled her close, enjoying the way she snuggled against his side. "You didn't," he assured her. For several minutes they lay in silence. "Are you going to answer my question?"

Laura smiled. "Joe was downstairs, we talked a bit."

Fenton could hear her smile. "What did he say?"

"Not much," Laura admitted. "It was just…it was a normal conversation Fenton. I had almost given up hope but now, maybe there's still hope. It's a good sign, don't you think?"

Fenton hugged her tightly. "Yes, I think so," he readily agreed. Knowing how stubborn his youngest could be he only hoped it wouldn't be a case of one step forward and two steps back.

First thing the next morning Joe had got on the computer. He had surprised himself the night before by falling back asleep. Luckily there had been no further nightmares. Getting online Joe began his research into the effects of aspirin. It didn't take him long to find the answer he was looking for. Though he couldn't find an exact figure what he found led him to believe the number of pills needed would have made it impossible for the soda to disguise the taste of the aspirin. In the background he vaguely registered the sound of the doorbell ringing as he turned to his messenger program.

_Alex are you there?_

**Of course pet, what's wrong?**

_I had a nightmare last night and went downstairs to get a drink._

**I'm sorry Joey. I wish I could take your nightmares away.**

_That doesn't matter. When I was downstairs I started thinking about that day and wondering if my mom did spike your drink._

Alex sighed. This could easily blow up in his face if he wasn't careful. The fact that Joe had contacted him was a good sign though.

**What conclusions did you come to pet?**

_I don't think she did it. The only things in the kitchen she could have used were ipecac and aspirin. Ipecac would have made you sick right away and the amount of aspirin needed would have made your soda taste funny. Do you think Red could have done it?_

Alex grinned. He had been afraid the boy would realize the poisoning had been faked.

**He must have. If your mother didn't he's the only one who could have. You know pet, now that I think about it this isn't the first time something like this happened**.

_What do you mean?_

**The other families. It wasn't always illness but in every case something always happened so Red could be alone with the child he was focused on. **

Downstairs Fenton greeted Agent Strand. "What can I do for you Agent?" he asked as they stepped into his office.

Strand cleared his throat. "I just wanted to know if your family is going ahead with the case against Alex Tomlinson?"

Fenton narrowed his eyes. "We're not going to drop the case just so you can put him on trial sooner," he coldly stated.

"No, no, that isn't what I meant. Perhaps I should explain."

"Go ahead."

Joshua took a deep breath, bracing himself. "We want you to go ahead. The truth is, Mr. Hardy, your family may be the only hope of sending Tomlinson to prison where he belongs."

Fenton's eyes widened in shock. "What? How can that be?"

"None of the other families will testify."

Fenton could only stare at the younger man. "None of them?" he couldn't keep the incredulousness from his voice.

"No sir," Strand confirmed. "The children are convinced Tomlinson protected them and won't testify. Nobody else in the victim families is willing to go against the targeted children."

Fenton sighed. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "So you're here to make sure my family testifies?"

"Yes sir."

"I see, well you can rest assured they have every intention of testifying."

"Even your youngest?" The agent was clearly doubtful.

"Would you like to ask him yourself?" Fenton didn't wait for an answer. Standing up he left the room, returning a few minutes later with Joe. He hadn't told him why he needed to talk to him, only that he needed him to come downstairs.

"Oh, hello," Joe greeted the stranger in his father's office. This must be who had rang the bell earlier.

"You must be Joe," Joshua smiled at the teen. "I'm Agent Strand with the FBI."

Joe looked to his father for an answer to his silent question.

"Agent Strand came to see me about some concerns the FBI has," Fenton explained.

"Concerns?" Joe asked.

"Yes Joe," Strand answered. "You see we at the FBI are concerned that the man who terrorized you and your family might go free."

Joe frowned. "Why would you worry about that?"

"I'd suggest honesty Agent Strand," Fenton advised.

Joshua nodded. "Some of the other children don't wish to testify against Tomlinson. We wanted to make sure you intend to testify."

Joe's mouth fell open. He hadn't thought about it, hadn't really realized he would have a choice. "You mean I could refuse?"

"Well technically yes," Strand nervously confirmed. "But if you did the prosecutor could issue a subpoena forcing you to testify." It wasn't likely he would but Joshua didn't mention that; they needed this child to testify. There was no way he was going back to the office and informing his boss he had blown their last chance to see Tomlinson in prison.

"I hadn't thought about it really, but I guess I'll testify," Joe responded after a moment of tense silence. But maybe he would refuse later. Alex would certainly be relieved that the option was available, he was sure. "May I be excused?" he asked his father.

In less than a minute he was back at his computer.

_Alex! There's an FBI agent downstairs and you'll never guess what he told me?_

Alex could have laughed at the child's excitement, it nearly flew off the screen.

**What pet?**

_Apparently I could refuse to testify against you. He said they could issue a supena but I don't see how they could really make me testify. It's not like they'd beat me or anything. So I'm thinking maybe I just won't testify. _

**Oh Joey, you don't know how much I appreciate the offer but I don't want you to do that.**

Joe stared at the computer, stunned by the message Alex had sent.

_You want to go to prison?_

**LOL! No pet, of course not. But you've already been hurt so much by all of this, I don't want you hurt any more.**

_I don't understand. How could it hurt me?_

**How do you think your family would react?**

Joe sighed.

_Not well._

**No, not well at all. There's a tension in your family Joey, caused by what Red and I did. **

_But you tried to protect me._

**I did. That doesn't change the fact that I did wrong too. Please pet, promise me you'll testify just as you should. There's an old proverb that the truth will set you free. I don't know if it will be true for me but I hope it will be true for you. Promise Joey.**

He didn't know how he could be expected to send Alex to prison. Even now he was trying to protect him. With shaking hands Joe typed his response_. I promise._

**It's the right thing pet, you'll see. My lawyer is here now. I'll talk to you later Joey.**

* * *

><p>"You have news Mr. Lovell?" Alex asked as he admitted the attorney to his apartment.<p>

Broderick nodded as he stepped into the main room of the luxurious apartment. "I think you'll be pleased."

"Go on," Alex asked as he poured himself a brandy. "Oh, would you care for a drink?"

"No thank you," Broderick politely refused. Frankly he wouldn't be comfortable accepting anything from his client's hand. "The federal charges have been dropped."

"I see," Alex smiled.

Broderick shot an assessing look towards the other man. "Why do I have the feeling you're not surprised?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Lovell but are you asking me to read your mind?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Broderick snapped. He swallowed hard as Alex quickly closed the distance between them. Staring into cold blue eyes he felt real fear for the first time in his life.

"Never insult me again Mr. Lovell," Alex warned, his voice low and menacing.

"Sorry," Broderick managed to squeak.

Backing away Alex returned to the bar, retrieving his brandy. "Why are they dropping the charges?"

"None of the families are willing to testify. It's my understanding that primarily the children won't testify and so neither will their families."

"Interesting." Alex swirled his drink a thoughtful look on his face.

"I don't know if you had any influence on the children but if you did perhaps you should attempt to exert that influence on the Hardy child," Broderick suggested. He wasn't fond of the idea but he was being paid a large amount of money to see his client free, using any means necessary, short of murder or assault.

Alex shook his head. "It wouldn't matter. Even if the child refused to testify I don't believe his family would refuse, not even if Joey were to beg them."

"You should at least consider it."

"No, it wouldn't work and therefore is a useless strategy," Alex decisively stated.

"On to another topic then," Broderick said, wisely deciding to change the subject. "Your father wants you to visit him."

"Playing messenger boy now? Really Mr. Lovell what would your colleagues think?" Alex sniped. "However, since you're willing, you can tell my father I haven't time to see him just now."

"He thought you might say that and wanted me to remind you that he is paying for my services."

Alex snarled, the sound coming from deep in his throat. "Then you can begin sending the bills to me. I assure you I have more than enough money to handle this situation, money that neither my father nor the government is aware of. Good day Mr. Lovell."

Stuttering an apology Broderick Lovell beat a hasty retreat feeling very much as if he'd just escaped the lion's den.

TBC...

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	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Joe slowly made his way down the stairs; he needed to talk to his mother. After his research and his talk with Alex he was sure she hadn't been the one to poison the drink. He didn't know what had been used but it was clear now that Red had done it himself so he could get Joe alone. A shudder ran through him as the memories were once more brought to the forefront of his mind.

He hoped his mother would be alone; the conversation would be hard enough without an audience. He thought there was a good chance of it, Frank was over at Phil's and his father should be in his office. Pushing open the door to the kitchen he was relieved to find his mother was alone as she went about preparing lunch. "Mom?"

Laura jumped. She turned startled blue eyes to the door, "Joe," she gasped, "you startled me."

"Sorry," Joe mumbled.

"It's alright honey. I guess I was wool gathering a bit. Did you need something?" she carefully asked.

"Could we talk?"

"Of course," Laura smiled. "Why don't you sit down and I'll get us each a glass of tea."

"I can get it," Joe said. He needed something to do with his hands. Coward he berated himself. It had been easy to behave hatefully towards his mother when he'd thought her guilty; it shouldn't be that difficult to admit now that he had been wrong. But right or wrong it was hard, harder than he'd expected and he found himself doing what he could to delay the moment.

Laura's eyes were filled with concern as she watched her youngest getting their drinks. It was clear that his hands were trembling as he poured the tea, sloshing some over the sides of the glasses. With a mumbled curse, which Laura chose to ignore, Joe pulled some paper towels from the roll and cleaned up the mess. Uncertainly she closed the distance between them, laying her hand over Joe's. "Honey, what is it?" she softly asked. Her concern grew as Joe turned tear filled eyes towards her.

"I'm so sorry Mom," Joe whispered brokenly. "I should have believed you."

"Oh honey." Without another word Laura pulled him close. "That's it honey, let it out," she soothed as the tears began to fall.

Joe was mortified, fourteen and crying in his mother's arms. He hadn't expected to break down but when those gentle arms wrapped around him, enveloping him in a feeling of safety he found himself sobbing like a little boy.

Laura had no idea how long they stood there, waiting for Joe's tears to end. Finally, the embarrassed teen pulled back, wiping his eyes. Laura didn't think he noticed her doing the same. "Not that I'm not relieved but what brought this on?" she gently asked.

"Last night," Joe replied.

Laura was puzzled. "I don't understand."

"I wasn't exactly honest with you."

"About your reason for being downstairs?" Laura couldn't quite quell the leap of fear. Had he been about to take something after all? Was that what he meant?

"I had a nightmare and came downstairs for a drink," Joe admitted.

"I don't understand honey, why would you lie about that?"

"I saw the aspirin and wondered if maybe that was what you had used…"

"But you said…"

"I do believe you mom, now," he emphasized the last word. "I searched the kitchen and the only things I found were aspirin and ipecac. I knew you couldn't have used ipecac and I didn't think the soda would have hidden the flavor of aspirin, but I wasn't sure. You see I didn't know how many aspirin it would have taken so this morning I did some research and talked to a friend. I shouldn't have doubted you, I'm sorry," he apologized once more.

Laura hugged him again. "You have nothing to apologize for. No," she said when he started to interrupt her. "You were traumatized honey and that awful man made it look like I was guilty. After what had happened earlier with Phil I really can't blame you for believing it."

"I should have known better. You might have tried to escape again but you wouldn't have risked it unless you were completely sure it would work. That's what you did when Sam called isn't it? You used the code Dad came up with to let him know something was wrong." He should have seen it earlier but he had been so wrapped up in his own pain he had missed it, some detective he'd make.

"Stop that," Laura admonished. "You are not to blame for what either of those men did Joe. I only wish I hadn't tried that foolish move with Phil. If I hadn't you wouldn't have been forced to endure another beating."

Joe shook his head. "I don't blame you for that. You had to do something."

Laura laughed. "We're quite a pair aren't we?"

Joe chuckled. "Guess so."

"How about you stop feeling guilty for believing their lies and I'll stop feeling guilty for trying to get help, deal?" Laura held out her hand.

Joe looked down. "I don't know if I can promise that, will you settle for I'll try?" He didn't bother to correct her by pointing out it had only been Red who had lied. Joe didn't think she would accept that too well.

Placing the fingers of her other hand beneath his chin, Laura raised his head so that she could look him in the eye. "If you will," she agreed.

"Deal," Joe whispered, shaking her hand before quickly drawing her in for a quick hug.

Across town Frank sat next to Phil, the two working diligently on a programming problem they had been trying to solve for several weeks.

"Damn it," Frank softly cursed.

Phil glanced to the side. This was the fourth time in the past hour Frank had been forced to backtrack. "Why don't we take a break," he quietly suggested.

Frank shook his head. "I can get this," he stubbornly insisted.

Phil lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Later."

"No, I have to fix this."

Phil frowned. Frank had always been known for his ability to focus on a problem to the exclusion of all else but there was something different this time. There was a sense of urgency in the other boy's voice that Phil had never heard before when working on an ordinary problem. The only time he'd seen Frank place such importance on something was when it involved a life or death matter, usually connected to Joe. Standing up he pulled the task chair away from the computer, spinning it so that Frank was facing him. "What's going on Frank?" he asked.

"You know what's going on Phil, we're trying to solve a problem."

"I don't think so Frank. You're having trouble focusing, making simple mistakes and placing way too much importance on this. Try again."

Frank sighed. "I can't stop thinking about Joe and Mom. I guess I thought, hoped, that working on our project would distract me. Sorry," he mumbled.

"Sorry?"

"Not exactly fair to you," Frank admitted.

"Never mind that," Phil brushed the concern away. "I'm worried about you Frank. You haven't been yourself lately."

"I don't know what you mean," Frank said.

Phil snorted. "Right. You've been spending all your time over here. No it isn't a problem," Phil quickly stopped the apology, "but you usually spend most of your time with Joe."

"Joe doesn't want to spend time with me." Frank was embarrassed at hearing the emotion in his own voice. Could he sound any more like a girl?

Phil's concern grew. That didn't sound like the younger Hardy. He practically worshipped his older brother. Even when they argued there was an underlying sense of love and respect, stronger than anything he'd ever seen between any two siblings. "Does he think you're still defending your mom?" Considering Frank's earlier statement it was the only thing he could think of.

"I guess. He won't even talk to me anymore," Frank miserably admitted.

"Have you talked to your parents about it?"

Frank shook his head. "They have enough to worry about. Mom blames herself for what happened to Joe. Not when Red took him into the kitchen," he clarified, "but the other stuff and Dad is busy trying to take care of Mom and Joe."

"And they've forgotten about you," Phil concluded.

"I guess," Frank shrugged.

"You need to talk to somebody Frank."

Frank smiled sadly. "I'm talking to you."

"And I'm happy to help but I'm not family and I'm not a professional. I'm not sure how much help I'll actually be. I really think you should talk to your folks," Phil advised.

"Maybe later. Right now they need to focus on Joe."

Phil sighed. For as long as he'd known the Hardys Frank had put his little brother ahead of himself. He wasn't sure it was healthy but he was an only child, what did he know? "Will you promise me something?"

"What?" Frank asked with obvious suspicion.

"If this is still going on a week from now you'll talk to your dad," Phil calmly replied.

"I can't Phil, he has enough to worry about," Frank protested.

Phil inhaled deeply. "If you don't then I will."

Frank glared. "It's none of your business."

"You're my friend Frank, I'm making it my business," Phil countered.

Frank swallowed hard. He thought he should be angry but he couldn't feel anything other than an overwhelming gratitude. "Thanks," he rasped.

TBC...

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	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Frank slipped into the house. Lately he dreaded going home, the tension in the atmosphere was a nearly physical thing. He vaguely registered the sound of the tv coming from the family room as he headed for the stairs.

"Frank is that you?"

"Yeah Mom," he called over his shoulder. He shouldn't have been surprised when his mother appeared in the doorway.

"Would you like something to eat? I could heat up some leftovers," Laura offered.

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure dear?"

"Yeah, I had something at Phil's." Without another word he hurried up the stairs to his room. He flopped onto his bed he threw an arm up over his eyes. He didn't move when he heard the clicking of his door. "I'm not hungry Mom."

"That's good cause I'm not Mom and I don't have any food," Joe smirked.

Frank jerked upright so quickly he was surprised he didn't' give himself whiplash. "Joe!"

"Hey," Joe shyly greeted the older boy.

Frank jumped to his feet, rushing to his brother's side. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

Joe took a step back. "Nothing happened Frank, well nothing bad," he added. "You were right."

"About Mom?" Frank hesitantly asked. He was almost afraid to mention his mother but he couldn't think of anything else Joe could mean.

Joe nodded. "I went downstairs last night for a drink and found the aspirin. I wondered if that was what was put into Alex's drink. I wasn't sure it would have worked though so I started searching the kitchen." He went on to explain what he had found and the short conversation with their mother.

"So that convinced you?" Frank asked. Surely it couldn't be that easy.

"Not exactly but almost. This morning I did some searching about aspirin. What I found convinced me that it couldn't have been aspirin. I already knew it couldn't have been the ipecac and there wasn't anything else. I guess it must have been Red that did it," Joe admitted. "I should have seen it before. I mean even Phil noticed that only Alex got sick." He looked down, digging his toe into the carpet. "Some detective huh?"

"Aw Joe," Frank whispered pulling the younger boy in for a hug. "You're a good detective little brother, nobody could think straight if they'd been through what you experienced."

"You realized the truth," Joe argued.

Frank pulled back so he was looking Joe in the eye. "I didn't go through the hell you did," he seriously stated.

"I'm sorry Frank. I've treated you pretty badly."

Frank shrugged. "You had your reasons."

Joe shook his head. "That doesn't excuse it. You've always taken care of me Frank. You're the best brother a guy could have, I shouldn't have forgotten that."

Frank knew Joe wouldn't let it go easily. His little brother had always been able to forgive others, even when he sometimes shouldn't, but forgiving himself was much more difficult. "You're forgiven," he said, knowing it was the only way Joe would stop beating himself up.

"I don't deserve it," Joe smiled shakily, "but thanks." He glanced across the room where his brother's laptop sat. "You been working with Phil on that programming thing?" he asked in an effort to cover the awkwardness.

"Yeah," Frank replied taking a seat at his desk.

"How's it going?" Joe asked, taking his usual seat on the bed.

"Not too well," Frank admitted. For several minutes neither boy spoke. There had never been a time that Frank could remember feeling so awkward with his little brother.

"Did Dad tell you about that FBI agent coming by?" Joe asked. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about the trial but Frank should know what was going on.

Frank raised an eyebrow.

"He came by yesterday. He said that none of the other kids will testify against Alex."

"What?" Frank nearly yelled. "Why would they do that?"

Joe flinched away; the anger rolling from his brother in waves making him uncomfortable. "Because he saved them," he replied in a small, uncertain voice.

"Saved them?" Frank was incredulous. "He did as much damage as Red."

"Not as much," Joe mumbled.

Frank's eyes widened. "Joe," he stumbled to the bed, falling beside his brother, "did Red…I mean, is there something else? Something you didn't tell us?" The paleness of Joe's face did nothing to reassure him. "Joe?" Red couldn't have ra…raped his brother. The doctor had said it hadn't happened; Frank clung to that knowledge.

"He cut me," Joe whispered.

"I know about that," Frank said. "We saw the cuts when you came back from the kitchen."

"That wasn't all," the younger boy admitted.

Frank felt sick. "Tell me."

"I can't." He felt ashamed, dirty. Joe knew he wouldn't be able to handle having Frank look at him differently and he would if he knew what had happened in the kitchen. There must have been something about him that made Red want to do those things to him. Alex had said it was only his innocence that attracted his partner but Joe wasn't convinced. It had to be something wrong with him and he didn't want Frank to realize that his brother was some kind of freak.

"Joe you can tell me anything." Frank didn't really want to hear but he thought it would do Joe good to talk about it…maybe.

Joe turned away. He couldn't do it.

"Joe tell me."

Joe shuddered. He couldn't refuse that tone. In short, broken sentences punctuated by tears the younger told the elder of the horror he'd experienced. By the end of his narration both boys were in tears. "If it hadn't been for Alex…" Joe stopped, his voice choked off by tears. Grateful beyond words for his brother's presence, he burrowed into the older boy's embrace, gaining much needed comfort.

Frank tightened his hold. "Shhh, you're safe now baby brother, shhhh," he soothed. With growing horror he finally saw how Alex had become his brother's savior, at least in the younger boy's eyes. If the other children had similar experiences he wasn't surprised they would refuse to testify. A horrible thought struck him. "Joe, you're not thinking about not testifying are you?"

"I was but not anymore," Joe quietly admitted.

"Good." Glancing skyward he sent up silent thanks. He didn't know what they would have done if Joe had refused to testify.

TBC...

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	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Fenton rubbed tired eyes; he'd been staring at the files so long the words were beginning to merge. He simply couldn't focus on the case. His mind continually returned to the situation with Tomlinson. He would have liked to speak to the other families, try to convince them to testify, but that wasn't possible. He wasn't one of the investigators and with his family as victims he wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the cases. Objectively he could understand it but as a father he wanted, no needed, to find a way to insure Alex Tomlinson didn't walk free.

Shoving the files away he reached for the phone. He'd have to call Sam, turn their few cases over to the other detective. He was too focused on his family and their needs to give his full attention to their clients. Luckily they only had a few open cases, none of them very difficult. Before he could dial the phone a knock sounded on his door. "Come in," he called as he returned the receiver to its cradle.

Joe stuck his head around the door. "Do you have time to talk?"

Fenton smiled. "Of course, come on in son."

Joe moved into the room, closing the door behind him. Taking a seat he shifted nervously. "Did Mom tell you about our talk?" he finally asked.

"She did," Fenton replied. "I'm glad you found the evidence you needed. You did good son."

Joe shrugged, he didn't feel like he deserved the praise. "I should have known without it." No matter what his brother had said Joe wasn't convinced of his abilities.

"A good detective wouldn't have."

"You weren't fooled," Joe countered.

"I also wasn't thinking like a detective," Fenton pointed out. "If I had looked at the evidence objectively I would have doubted your mother's innocence too," he admitted. "Is that why you came in here? Do you want me to tell you that you messed up?"

Joe shook his head. "I wanted to let you know that I'll testify figured you'd be wondering."

"I'm glad to hear it son, though I wish you didn't have to." Fenton paused for a moment, considering the wisdom of asking. In the end curiosity won out, "Can I ask why you made that decision?"

Joe shrugged, "It's the right thing to do I guess." He couldn't very well tell his father that Alex had practically ordered him to testify. He could just imagine his dad's reaction if he learned the two of them were in touch with each other.

"You're right it is. I'm proud of you son, you're becoming a good man," Fenton praised the boy.

Joe felt a swell of pride at his father's words. The pride quickly slipped away as he realized his father wouldn't say that if he knew how the decision had been made. If it had been up to Joe he would have refused to testify though he knew intellectually that Alex deserved punishment. But how could he help them punish the man who had saved him from a horrible fate?

"Dad do I have to keep going to Dr. Carpenter?" Joe hesitantly asked a moment later.

"Joe I know you don't like talking to a psychiatrist but I really think it's doing you good."

"I hate it," Joe argued. "And it's not really helping."

"How can you say that Joe? Since you started seeing Dr. Carpenter you've made up with your mother and you haven't had another panic attack," Fenton calmly pointed out.

"He didn't have anything to do with Mom. I figured that out on my own."

"Okay but what about the panic attacks?"

"It might never happen again anyway. I don't want to spend the rest of my life going to therapy just because I might have another attack."

Fenton sighed. He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't have any problem with therapy himself but neither did he believe it would help somebody who was fighting against it. "I'll tell you what I'll discuss it with your mother and Dr. Carpenter."

"That's not fair, you know the doctor is going to say I need more therapy," Joe protested.

"Not necessarily son. Dr. Carpenter has a good reputation."

"So?"

"So a good psychiatrist isn't going to keep therapy going if it isn't necessary."

Joe wasn't sure about that but he knew he wouldn't win the argument. "If you say so," he mumbled. Standing up he left the room without another word.

Fenton let him go. Should he let Joe stop therapy? What if he allowed the boy to stop only for him to endure another panic attack? Well he had said he would discuss it with Laura and the doctor so that was what he would do.

In a small exclusive restaurant Alex waited for his guest. He smiled sardonically as he imagined the detective seated across the street watching. Alex could have objected to the tail the police had put on him but frankly it amused him to lead them around by the nose.

His meeting today was a perfect example. Well aware that he was being followed Alex had arranged to meet his contact in this restaurant simply due to its exclusivity. There was no way a lowly police detective would have the means necessary to eat in his chosen establishment. The man couldn't even afford a slice of toast here, if they had served toast that is.

He supposed the detective could have simply contacted the management claiming police business to gain a table. Alex had gambled the detective wouldn't do such a thing given that following him as they were qualified as a clear case of harassment. To further insure the detective wouldn't gain any useful information he had requested a table well away from the front windows.

"Mr. Tomlinson?"

Alex looked up at the man he'd been expecting. "Ah Mr. Withers, please have a seat."

Carl Withers slid into the seat.

"What would you like to drink sir?" the waiter asked.

"Anything you like Mr. Withers," Alex offered. It would look most odd if they consumed nothing and it wasn't as if he couldn't afford to treat the man to lunch.

Carl nodded and gave the waiter his drink order. "I understand you have need of my services." Though not often in a place like this Carl could behave in a more refined manner when needed. However, if he'd had a choice he would have preferred meeting in a bar or some hamburger joint. Oh well Tomlinson was the client, the meeting place was his choice.

"Yes," Alex confirmed. He paused as the waiter returned with Carl's drink. "I have been told you can acquire anything a person in my situation might need."

"I haven't failed yet," Carl smugly confirmed the information.

"And you are of course discreet?"

"Nobody will ever know we spoke or what we spoke about."

"Very well. There are certain papers I am in need of," Alex began to explain. Once more he was forced to pause as the waiter appeared. Alex asked for a few more minutes. "I suppose we'd better make our selections if we wish to avoid constant interruptions."

Carl nodded and picked up the menu. A few minutes later both men had made their choices. Conveniently this was accomplished just as the waiter returned. After placing their orders they returned to the conversation. "Could you be more specific?" Carl asked.

"Not at this time," Alex replied. "You see I won't know until after the trial exactly which papers I will be in need of. I can, however, provide you with a list detailing the type of information I will require with specifics to follow at a later date. Will that be acceptable?"

Carl shrugged. "You're the client."

Alex smiled coldly, "Yes I am."

Carl didn't allow the smile to affect him. You didn't work successfully in his business if you were going to let a little thing like that throw you off balance. "I suppose you know the outcome of the trial?" Carl asked, supposing the man would be buying the jury.

"I have a strong inkling," Alex smiled.

Carl nodded. "Just in case it doesn't go the way you expect how do I get the papers to you?" Carl being a practical man liked to cover all of his bases.

"Full instructions are in the envelope," Alex said, indicating the papers he'd given the man earlier. "Exact procedures are in place for every contingency."

Carl smiled. "You plan ahead, I like that. Makes my job a lot easier."

"Oh good; it's my goal in life to make your job easier," Alex smirked.

Carl chuckled appreciatively. "Anything else I need to know?"

"I don't believe so. However if you have any further questions you can contact me at the number you'll find in the envelope." Alex had taken the precaution of purchasing a pre-paid cell phone. He didn't want the police or anybody else able to track his contact with men such as Carl Withers.

"Good enough."

The two men remained in the restaurant for some time, enjoying a leisurely lunch. When the meal ended Carl left first, Alex would leave twenty minutes later. Once away from the restaurant Carl removed the non-descript brown wig and mustache he'd worn for the occasion.

TBC...

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	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Joe sat on the couch in Dr. Carpenter's office, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the opposite wall.

"You're angry," Steve stated.

Joe didn't answer, only continuing to stare.

Steve sighed. "I know you didn't want to continue seeing me."

"No reason to," Joe sullenly mumbled.

"Because you've forgiven your mother?"

"Yeah."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath willing himself to remain calm. "You don't think there's any other reason for you to see me?"

Joe shook his head.

"What about the panic attack?"

"It only happened once."

"Yes, but why did it occur?" Steve quietly asked.

Joe rubbed his hands over jean clad legs. "I don't want to talk about that." He could feel his heart pounding away, feeling as if it would come through his ribs at any moment.

"Take a deep breath Joe," Steve sternly ordered. He was relieved when the instruction was followed. "Hold it, now slowly release the breath…and again." He continued these instructions until the boy calmed down. "Better?"

"Yeah," Joe whispered.

"Do you still think you don't need therapy?" Steve asked after giving the teen a moment.

Joe glared. "You did that on purpose," he accused.

Steve looked startled. "Did what?"

"Made me panic."

"How did I do that?"

Joe only glared.

"I only asked a question Joe, a reasonable question," Steve pointed out. "The fact that it began a panic attack does tell me that you need to deal with what happened."

"I am dealing with it," Joe argued.

"How?" Steve knew something of what Joe was doing at home but he hoped if the boy started to talk he would realize he wasn't dealing with it at all.

"I just am."

Well that worked well Steve thought and why was his inner voice always so sarcastic? "By hiding out in your room? That isn't dealing with it Joe, it's only avoiding the issue."

"What do you know about it anyway?" Joe snapped.

"I know that avoiding problems won't make them go away."

"The only problem I have is that people won't leave me alone."

"Your family is worried about you Joe. They don't want to see you hiding from the world, from life because of the actions of two men who treated you nothing but cruelly." Steve spoke in a gentle voice filled with concern.

"You don't know anything about it!" Joe yelled. Pushing to his feet he turned towards the door.

"I know something of what those men did to you and I know what they would have done."

Joe reversed course, quickly closing the distance between himself and the now standing doctor. "I…" he poked the doctor in the chest, "don't," poke, "want," poke," to talk," poke, "about," poke "it!" With that he shoved Steve away from him.

Steve quickly recovered his balance. "What do you want to talk about then?" he calmly asked. This wasn't the first time a patient had blown up at him, nor would it be the last. Such things came with the territory of his job.

"Nothing," Joe spared one more heated glare towards the doctor before storming from the room. He stomped down the hall, through the waiting room without looking his father's way and out to the parking lot.

"Joe!" Fenton called running after his son. What the hell had that doctor said to cause this reaction he wondered? Stepping outside he was relieved to see Joe pacing next to the car. He'd honestly been afraid his son would have run off to who knew where. "Joe, son, what is it?" he asked when he was close enough to be heard.

"I don't want to talk to him again," Joe nearly snarled.

"Did he do something to you?"

"He won't quit trying to make me talk about stuff," Joe complained.

"Well that is his job son," Fenton calmly pointed out. He was smart enough not to let Joe see him smile at the complaint. When you considered the man's title it was a pretty silly complaint.

Joe looked long and hard at his father. "You're going to make me come back aren't you?"

Fenton nodded. "I really think you should."

"Fine but I'm not going to talk to him," Joe sullenly insisted.

"I don't suppose I can force you to," Fenton admitted. He glanced towards the small building; he could see the doctor standing just inside the door. "Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?"

"Why?"

"I need to go back inside, pay the bill…"

"Make another appointment," the blond groused.

"That too," Fenton admitted. "So will you be okay out here?"

Joe glared, "I'm not a little kid."

"No, you're not." Taking his keys from his pocket he unlocked the door and handed them to Joe. "So you can listen to the radio if you want," he explained.

Joe nodded and slid into the seat. He watched in sullen silence as his father disappeared into the building.

"Joe's pretty upset Dr. Carpenter," Fenton said as soon as he entered the building.

"Yes and believe it or not that's a good thing," Steve smiled.

"A good thing?" Fenton was doubted that.

"Today is the first time he's reacted with strong emotion."

"And why did he?"

"I asked him what brought on his panic attack which nearly sent him into another one. Don't worry it didn't get that far but I used that as an opening. Joe didn't like it much," Steve admitted, ruefully rubbing his chest.

"So now what?"

"I keep seeing him; help him to deal with what happened to him."

Fenton glanced towards the car; he could just make out Joe sitting in the passenger seat. "He insists he won't talk to you again."

"He will eventually," Steve confidently predicted. "He needs to deal with the terror he lived through Mr. Hardy. If you didn't know that you never would have brought him to me."

"You're right," Fenton sighed. "It's just not easy, forcing him to come here when he clearly doesn't want to. I know he probably hates me right now and I know this is what's best for him."

Steve quickly realized the elder Hardy wasn't really speaking to him and wisely remained silent.

"I guess I need to make another appointment for him," Fenton concluded, resigned to the situation.

TBC...

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	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

_I'm tired. _

**Perhaps you should sleep**.

_Not that kind of tired._

**I don't understand pet.**

_I'm tired of everybody trying to make me act the way they want me to. Why can't they just let me handle things my way?_

**Your parents?**

_And my brother and the shrink, even my friends but I think they're just calling because Frank or my parents asked them to._

**Why do you think that?**

_Because when they call it's always tense and uncomfortable, like they don't know what to say_.

Alex frowned. Joe needed contact with others. Isolating himself could prove disastrous, particularly after the trial. He didn't want to lose the boy to depression. This would require careful handling.

Joe squirmed in his seat. What was taking so long? Was Alex angry with him? He sighed, the man is probably tired of listening to you whine.

_I'm sorry Alex. _

Alex blinked. **Sorry? Why are you sorry Joey?**

Joe shrugged though he knew Alex couldn't see him.

**Joey?**

_I don't mean to whine._

**You think I'm angry?**

_Yes._

**Oh pet, I'm not angry with you I promise. Why did you think I was?**

Joe felt a wave of relief hit him. If Alex said he wasn't angry then he wasn't.

_You weren't saying anything._

Alex smiled. **I was thinking. I want to help Joey but before I can I need to know how you're dealing with everything.**

_I mostly try not to think about it. I talk to you when I need to talk because I know you understand. I play video games sometimes, listen to music, read._

**Do you ever go anywhere?**

_Well I go to see the shrink. I don't want to but they're making me_.

Alex could almost hear the pout in the boy's voice. He didn't blame him of course. Most psychiatrists were full of themselves, thinking they had all the answers. Only a few were like his mother, truly caring for their patients, wanting only to help them. Unfortunately for them and their patients those were the ones who usually didn't last, either leaving the profession or committing suicide.

**Do you ever go anywhere for fun? Spend time with friends? Get out of the house?**

_You too?_

**Well I do hate to agree with your parents or the doctor but you shouldn't isolate yourself.**

_I'm not! I talk to you and I've started talking to Frank a little._

**That's good pet but you need more than me and your brother. Nor will I be around forever.**

_What do you mean? I need you Alex, you're the only one who understands!_

**Calm down pet, take a deep breath. You know as well as I do that I'm likely to be convicted and sent to prison. You don't suppose they'll give me computer access there do you? Even if they did I'm sure it would be monitored which means I can't contact you.**

_Then I won't testify. _

**Yes you will Joey. Even if you didn't your family would and that alone would be enough for a conviction. There is nothing to gain by your refusal to testify and so much more to lose.**

_Yes sir. _

Joe slumped in his seat. He really didn't want to help send Alex to prison. But he had to do it, he knew that. Nobody said he had to like it.

**I know you don't like it pet, you don't have to, just do it. **

Alex smirked, he could guess the effect of his words.

Joe felt a measure of comfort from the words on the screen. There directly in front of him was the proof that Alex understood him.

_I will, I promise._

**Good boy. Now what time does your family have dinner?**

_Five why?_

**It's nearly 4:30 now. I want you to do something for me pet.**

_What is it?_

**I want you to say good-bye for now and go outside. I want you to take a walk arriving back at your home a few minutes before dinner.**

Joe's breathing sped up. He didn't want to go outside. He didn't like seeing other people, seeing them looking at him. He felt like they all knew everything that had happened and would have happened.

_I can't, please Alex don't make me._

**Deep breaths pet. I can feel your panic.**

Joe obeyed the command, unconsciously using the technique Dr. Carpenter had introduced him to.

_I'm calmer now but please Alex I can't go for a walk._

**Alright pet you don't have to go for a walk, but I do want you to go outside. Sit in your yard, breathe in the scent of the flowers, get some sunlight and fresh air. **

Joe sighed. He knew Alex wasn't going to take no for an answer this time.

_Yes sir._

**You will have to go further afield eventually. I won't have you turning yourself into a recluse pet. Now say good-night Gracie.**

_Gracie?_

**Guess you're too young. After dinner look up Burns and Allen online. I'm sure you can find some clips. For now go outside, we can talk later.**

_Yes sir. You'll be here later?_

**I'll be here anytime you need me pet.**

Joe reluctantly signed off. Turning away from the computer he slipped on his shoes and left his room. Downstairs he stood at the door, staring into the yard for several minutes. He really didn't want to do this but he had told Alex he would. Taking a deep breath he opened the door.

TBC...

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	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"The trial begins soon doesn't it?"

Joe glared at the doctor, refusing to answer. He really didn't want to talk to the man, especially when he asked stupid questions. He knew the trial date had been in the papers and on television. Even if they hadn't Joe was sure his father would have told the doctor when the trial was supposed to start.

"How do you feel about testifying?" Steve frowned as no response was forthcoming. The last couple of appointments had gone like this. No matter what question he tried his patient refused to talk.

Usually in a case such as this Steve would use a variation of the silent treatment. Simply put he would sit in the room with his patient, saying nothing, only observing while he jotted down the occasional note. This normally resulted in the patient talking as most were uncomfortable with prolonged silences. Joe Hardy had proven to be the exception to the rule. Rather than talk he had simply closed his eyes and used the hour to take a nap, or pretend to at any rate. A few sessions like this were enough to prove to him that the usual method wouldn't work. If it hadn't been so frustrating, Steve would have admired the boy's determination.

"It must be difficult. I know I wouldn't enjoy talking about such a horrible experience in front of strangers." Steve sighed heavily. "If you'd let me help you Joe, you'll be better prepared for the trial." He was honestly worried about the effects of the trial on his young patient. While the boy hadn't experienced another panic attack Steve was very much aware of the possibility. Testifying in a public trial was very nearly guaranteed to cause one. He sighed again. Maybe it was time to hand this patient off to another doctor?

Joe glanced at the clock, relieved to see he'd been in the office for an hour. Without a word he stood and left the room. He could sense the doctor following him but he didn't acknowledge the man. Sooner or later Dr. Carpenter would realize these appointments were a waste of time.

"Mr. Hardy could I speak to you for a moment?"

Fenton turned from the appointment desk. Had Joe finally started talking to the doctor again? "Of course." He quickly finished making a new appointment and told Joe to stay in the waiting room. No words were spoken as he followed the doctor down the hall to his office.

"Did Joe say something?" Fenton asked the moment the door closed.

"No, I'm afraid not."

Fenton ran a hand through his hair, a habit from his younger days. "Is there any point in continuing therapy?"

"Yes and no," Steve answered. "I don't believe Joe will talk to me again but he needs to talk to somebody. I think it may be time to find another doctor for him." He knew the elder Hardy wouldn't like what he was about to suggest but he had to do what he thought best for his patient. "I'd like to recommend a colleague of mine." He handed Fenton a card. "Dr. Saylor is very good at what she does."

"That's what I was told about you," Fenton pointed out.

"I won't insult you by a show of false humility Mr. Hardy. I am good at my job but the doctor patient relationship is much like a marriage. If the personalities involved aren't a good fit the relationship will become more work than it ought to be and is much more likely to fail." Steve took a deep breath, "Diane specializes in helping the victims of sexual abuse."

Fenton gasped. "But Joe wasn't," he couldn't say the word, "that didn't happen to my son."

"Not actual rape, no," Steve agreed. "However what he experienced was a type of sexual assault causing many of the same sorts of feelings. Joe won't let me help him and he really does need help in dealing with this."

Fenton nodded. "I'll call Dr. Saylor," he promised. "Was that all?"

Steve shook his head. "I'm concerned about Joe testifying in open court. A few weeks ago when I asked him a simple question about the events of that day he nearly had a panic attack. I am very much afraid that he will panic in that courtroom."

"I've been worried about it too," Fenton admitted. "The judge won't allow him to testify in chambers. Joe's testimony will be the most damning and the defense protested the motion. The prosecutor pointed out that Joe is only fourteen but since a boy that age can be charged as an adult the defense was able to argue that he should be old enough to testify in open court like any other witness. Unfortunately the judge ruled for the defense."

"I see. I suppose the judge is up for re-election this year?" He'd seen judges make bad decisions before because they were more concerned with politics.

"No. Actually from what the prosecutor told me I think the judge is trying to prevent grounds for appeal."

"I guess there's nothing to be done then. Just watch your son carefully while he's testifying and be prepared to insist on a break for him if you see him beginning to panic," Steve advised.

Fenton smiled ruefully. "I already am Doctor."

A week later Joe sat at his computer. He should be in bed; tomorrow was going to be a long day.

_I don't know if I can do this._

**You'll do fine pet.**

_I could still change my mind._

**Joey we've talked about this. **

_But I don't want to send you to prison._

**I don't want to go to prison pet, but we both know it's going to happen. **

_Maybe I can make the jury see that you were trying to protect me from Red._

**I wish you could Joey but unfortunately nobody else sees it that way. Nor are they likely to. **

Joe sighed, he knew when arguing would do no good. _Have you figured out a way for us to keep talking?_

**No, but I did find a site for you to start visiting after the trial. I'll send you the link in an email. Look for a user named Minder. He is a friend of mine and very much like me.**

Joe stared at the screen in disbelief. _You want me to replace you?_

**No, I want you to have somebody to talk to. Somebody who can help you while I'm away, I want your promise you'll do as I say pet.**

With shaking hands Joe began to type his reply. _I promise._ His finger hesitated over the enter key. Joe knew the promise he was making was an acknowledgement that Alex would soon be gone from his life. He didn't know if he'd be able to talk to this guy, Minder, but he would try at least. It wouldn't be the same as talking to Alex, who understood what he'd gone through because he'd been there. Would this Minder understand him and his feelings to actually be helpful? He honestly doubted it.

**Thank you Joey. Now say goodnight Gracie.**

Joe smiled. _Goodnight Gracie. _

The next morning an exhausted Joe Hardy climbed out of bed. After ending his chat with Alex he had tried to go to bed only to spend the next hour tossing and turning. When he finally managed to fall asleep he was plagued with nightmares.

"Joe time to…oh you're already up." Frank stood in the doorway uncertainly. He hadn't expected his brother to be out of bed, not this early. "Mom has breakfast ready."

"Not hungry," Joe mumbled.

Frank frowned. "You need to eat Joe."

Joe sat heavily on the edge of his bed, his head hanging. He was the picture of abject misery. "It'd just come back up."

Frank fully entered the room, taking a seat next to his brother. "That bad huh?"

"I know I have to testify Frank but…"

"You're scared."

Joe nodded. "The thought of it makes me sick," he quietly admitted.

"It's going to be a long day Joe, an empty stomach is going to make it longer."

Joe shrugged.

Frank sighed. "Is there anything I can do?"

Joe snorted. "Convince the prosecutor to drop the charges."

"Joe…"

"Never mind Frank," he sighed. "Go eat breakfast; I'll be down in a little while."

"You sure?" He hated to leave Joe alone when he was so obviously stressed.

"Go on Frank, I'll be fine. Just going to shower and get dressed."

"Alright." With obvious reluctance Frank left the room.

Two hours later found the Hardy family entering the courtroom. Luckily the prosecutor had arranged for them to enter through a back entrance, allowing them to avoid most of the reporters lying in wait. Still there were a few directly outside the courtroom that were impossible to avoid. Their only option was to force their way past them all the while ignoring the questions shouted at them.

Bunch of vultures, Frank thought with disgust as he wrapped one arm around Joe's shoulder as if to shield him from their sight. He knew it was their job to report the news and this was certainly news but did they have to be so obnoxious about it.

Inside the courtroom it was much quieter. The few reporters permitted in the gallery had been warned against any outburst. The Hardy family soon found their seats.

Fenton sat next to his wife, Joe on his other side with Frank seated next to him. Throughout the morning the detective listened in horror as his wife and eldest son recounted the events of that horrible day. He glanced, for probably the twentieth time, at his youngest. The boy was pale and obviously nervous over his testimony. The detective wished with all of his heart that he could have spared his family, particularly Joe this ordeal. But once more he was helpless to save his family from the pain caused by Alex Tomlinson.

When the judge dismissed the court for lunch a bailiff led the Hardy family into a side room.

"Judge Harlin thought you wouldn't want to deal with the reporters. There's menus from Sally's diner. If you give me your order I'll see it's brought to you," the bailiff explained.

"That's very kind of you, thank you," Laura quietly said.

It took them only moments to make their selections, with Joe once more refusing anything. Fenton ordered a light lunch for him anyway. He only hoped the boy would eat some of it. The afternoon would be difficult as it was, Joe didn't need to faint from hunger on top of everything else.

"How are you holding up son?" Fenton asked after the bailiff left.

Joe shrugged. What was there to say? They wouldn't let him refuse to testify. Alex wouldn't let him refuse either. He almost laughed at that, just barely stopping himself. He didn't want to explain to his family. Joe suspected they wouldn't see the humor of them and Alex agreeing on something.

"Frank?"

"I'm okay Dad. It wasn't easy to talk about it, especially with Tomlinson sitting there the whole time," he admitted. It had been creepy to see the man staring at him, wearing a look very similar to the one that graced his face all those weeks ago.

"You did good son. I'm proud of you."

"Just wish it was over with."

"Me too," Laura whispered. Gratefully she leaned into Fenton's embrace. She had nearly broken down on the stand more than once. Seeing the man who had terrorized them looking at her with such disdain as she recounted that day had reignited the guilt she still carried. It was the sight of her husband and sons sitting behind the prosecutor that had kept her strong and got her through testifying.

Too soon lunch was ending. Slowly the family returned to their seats in the courtroom. Beside him Fenton could feel Joe beginning to tremble. Wrapping one arm around his son's shoulders, he pulled him close. "You okay son?"

"I can't do this Dad," Joe spoke in a voice just above a whisper.

As if he'd heard him Alex turned in his seat. Ignoring the glares sent his way by the rest of the Hardy family he focused on Joe. Softening his gaze he gave a barely perceptible nod before turning to once more face forward.

Joe drew in a deep breath. He knew he had to testify. He had promised.  
>"Joe?" Aware of Tomlinson's effect on his victims Fenton was understandably worried by the look he'd given his son.<p>

"I'm okay now Dad," Joe assured him.

Before anything else could be said court was called to order. They had barely resumed their seats when Joe's name was called and he stepped forward.

"Hello Joe, you don't mind if I call you Joe do you?" the prosecutor, Evan Sanders, asked.

"It's okay."

"I know this isn't easy for you Joe but I'd like you to tell me about the events that occurred on June 10th of this year."

Joe swallowed hard and began to speak. He spoke not only of the events, but with the encouragement of Mr. Sanders, he spoke too of the terror he'd felt that day. The longer he spoke the more his voice shook as he moved closer to the worst part of that awful day. "…Red took me into the kitchen."

Here Evan interrupted his witness. "When you say Red you mean Gary Wyndham?" he asked for clarification.

Joe nodded.

"Let the record show the witness indicated a positive response to the question," the judge ordered. He could see the boy was nearing the end of his endurance. "Do you need a break Joe?" he quietly asked the young witness.

Joe shook his head. He wanted nothing more than to leave the stand but he knew if he did there was no way he would return. He was barely holding himself together now.

"You said Gary Wyndham took you into the kitchen, can you tell us what happened Joe?" Evan gently asked.

"He…he pushed me against the wall and started cu…cu…" As his heart hammered a staccato beat Joe felt himself growing lightheaded. He knew he was losing the struggle to keep himself together. Through a tunnel he heard the judge asking him something but he was too far away for the words to make sense. His vision began to fade as his breathing came in short, panicked gasps. He saw Alex stand and suddenly the panic stopped. Somehow Joe knew the man was about to save him again.

Alex had seen enough. He pushed himself to his feet. "Stop!"

"Mr. Tomlinson if you don't sit down I will have you restrained," Judge Harlin threatened.

Alex ignored him. "I'm sorry Joey; I shouldn't have allowed this to happen." Turning to the judge he squared his shoulders. "Your honor I wish to change my plea to guilty."

TBC...

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	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

For a moment nobody spoke, the courtroom seemingly frozen in disbelief. Joe stared at Alex, amazed and horrified. Vaguely he heard whispers as the room came back to life, the whispers grew in volume until Judge Harlin was forced to pound his gavel on the bench. He didn't stop until silence once more reigned within the room.

"Mr. Tomlinson do you understand that by pleading guilty you waive your right to appeal?" the judge asked.

Alex glanced at Joe as if to say I'm doing this for you. "Yes sir," he responded as he returned his attention to the judge. He easily ignored his attorney's attempts to get his attention. Obviously the man would advise him against this action, therefore he needn't listen.

Evan Sanders stared at the defendant in disbelief. He was relieved for the young victim of course but he couldn't help feeling as if they'd all been played. His gaze zeroed in on the defense attorney. Eyes narrowed he carefully observed the other attorney looking for any sign that this had been a ploy. If Lovell had played the court he would see him disbarred. Watching the man trying and failing to gain his client's attention he was soon convinced that Lovell had been as surprised as the rest of them by the change in plea.

Broderick Lovell was nearly sweating as his client ignored him. Though Alex was now paying his bill he didn't fool himself. When the elder Tomlinson heard about his son's change of plea he might well blame Broderick for the action. Damn it, why did the man do this? And why hadn't he consulted Broderick first? He only hoped Alex's father wouldn't blame him. God knew if he did he could easily ruin him should he choose to.

"Very well." Turning to the court reporter Judge Harlin instructed her to enter the plea into the official record. "Mr. Hardy you may step down," he then told the young witness. He hadn't expected the defendant to change his plea in the midst of the trial but for the sake of the young boy now making his way from the stand the judge was exceedingly relieved.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the state and this court thank you for your time, you are dismissed. Bailiff take the defendant into custody, court dismissed." The sound of the gavel hitting wood rang through the room.

Joe, in a daze, made his way back to his family. Sinking heavily into his seat he stared ahead, his focus on the man who had just saved him from reliving the most horrific parts of that June day. He couldn't believe Alex had done that. True he would have probably been convicted anyway but at least he could have appealed. Now that hope was gone for him.

Fenton exchanged a look with Frank, seated on Joe's other side. Neither had been able to gain Joe's attention since he had retaken his place between them. "Joe, son?" he tried once more, shaking the teen's shoulder.

Alex looked at Joe again. He knew it would be the last time he would see the boy for sometime to come. With any luck that time would be cut in half or more. Everything so far was working just as he'd planned. He only needed that trend to continue for a little while longer and then he could make Joey his to care for.

A shaken Joe watched Alex as he was led from the courtroom, never taking his eyes from the older man. Only the door closing, blocking Alex from sight broke his focus. Becoming aware once more of his surroundings he realized his father was trying to get his attention. "I'm sorry Dad, did you say something?"

"Are you okay son?" Fenton didn't try to hide the concern in his voice.

Joe nodded. "I wasn't expecting that."

"I don't think anybody was."

Noise from the hall drew Frank's attention. He could see a crowd of people through the small windows of the courtroom door. "Um Dad," he nodded towards the doors.

Fenton followed Frank's gaze. He supposed they could get out the same back entrance but they would still have to fight their way through the crowd at the door. A crowd he was sure consisted mostly of reporters. One look at Joe was enough to see his youngest wouldn't be able to handle the mob scene that awaited them.

"Mr. Hardy."

Fenton looked up to see a bald court bailiff standing in the aisle. "Yes?"

"Judge Harlin thought you might like to use the staff entrance."

"How do we get to it?" Fenton quickly grasped the offered lifeline.

"There's a back hallway," the bailiff replied inclining his head to indicate the door at the back of the courtroom. Moving away from them he stood in front of the doors using his height and broad shoulders to block the view from those in the hall.

"Thank you and please tell Judge Harlin the same," Fenton said. Without another word he stood, quickly followed by the rest of his family. Silently they moved from the courtroom to the back hallway. It was a nearly perfect escape.

"Mr. Hardy were you surprised by the change of plea?" A brash middle-aged man called his question.

"No comment," Fenton replied. Wrapping his arm around Laura he led her past the small group of reporters. Glancing over his shoulder he saw that Frank was shielding his brother in the same way.

"Why did the defendant call your son by name?" Another voice, this a woman's called.

"No comment." Fenton knew from experience that avoidance was the only way to handle reporters intent on a story.

Frank glared at the few reporters. He could feel Joe trembling under his arm. His younger brother wasn't ready for this. Hell he had only recently started going outside for short periods of time.

"Joe what is your relationship to the defendant? Did Tomlinson touch you?"

Joe gasped, the color draining from his face.

"Frank get your brother to the car," Fenton ordered. He wanted nothing more than to take Joe in his arms, protecting him from the vultures masquerading as reporters. But Fenton knew that for now he could protect Joe better by running interference while the boys escaped to the car. As the boys moved past him Fenton blocked the path behind them, thankful there were only a few reporters out here. Beside him he could feel his wife trembling.

"How dare you!" Laura snapped.

"It's a legitimate question Mrs. Hardy," the short, stocky man defended. "The public has a right to know."

Laura glared. "My son is not a public figure you vile little vermin," she hissed. "He is a fourteen year old boy who has experienced a horrifying event. He is not a means for you to build your career. If I see you anywhere near my family I will not hesitate to call the police."

Jock Steele wasn't worried by the threats. He had the law behind him; freedom of the press was a precious right after all. He said as much to the enraged mother before him. That was his second mistake, his first having been the offensive questions fired at a child.

Laura took a step towards the man. She smiled grimly as the sniveling coward took a step back. "I see you work for the Bayport Times Mr. Steele," she said.

"Yes," Jock confirmed.

"I'll be sure to mention your name to Caroline."

"Caroline?" Jock asked, though he was afraid he knew who Mrs. Hardy referred to.

"Caroline Frasier, she's a good friend of mine," Laura calmly informed him.

Fenton was glad now he hadn't tried to stop his wife from confronting the odious reporter. He suspected that this chance to protect their son would go a long way towards exorcising some of the lingering demons from that June day.

"She won't stop me," Jock said, trying to appear confident. "Friends you might be but Mrs. Frasier is a newspaperwoman first."

"Yes, you're absolutely right," Laura smiled. "She's also a decent human being who will be appalled when she hears the type of questions you were asking. Your defense of your actions aimed at a child will further appall her."

"If she fires me I'll sue the paper for breech of contract."

"Oh no you misunderstand me. I won't be asking her to fire you, I'll just tell her of your odious, vile behavior. I'm sure Caroline will have no problem changing your assignment, perhaps to the paper's morgue." Laura turned away, slipping her hand into her husband's as they moved towards the car.

"You can't do that," Jock yelled after her.

Laura glanced over her shoulder, "Watch me."

TBC...

A/N: I can't take credit for Jock Steele. The character inspiration and name come from an episode of the 1998 CBS show, Magnificent Seven. In the episode Jock Steele was a dime store novelist, and considering the sensational types of stories in such novels they could be considered an early form of tabloid reporting. He seemed like a good fit for a modern day reporter covering a sensational trial.

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	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"Don't worry Joe, Dad will take care of those reporters," Frank assured his brother as they made their way to the car. Joe didn't respond until they were inside the car.

"Doesn't matter," Joe mumbled. He had known for weeks that people were thinking those kinds of things. They probably thought he had wanted it. Frank and his parents had all insisted it wasn't true, only Alex hadn't tried to convince him that he was wrong.

"Of course it matters Joe. He shouldn't have been asking you stuff like that." Frank had been disgusted by the reporter's questions; especially the way he made it sound like Joe had been involved with Tomlinson.

Joe shrugged. He supposed he should be angry but he just couldn't work up the energy. He wouldn't be able to talk to Alex again, not even to thank him for what he'd done. It didn't seem right. The man had saved him again and Joe wouldn't be allowed to express his gratitude. He could just imagine his parents' reactions if he asked them to let him visit Alex at the jail. He shuddered lightly. It was probably just as well that his parents wouldn't allow it, reporters like that one guy would just make it sound like there was something nasty going on between him and Alex.

"Joe? You okay?" Frank shook his head, "Never mind, that was a stupid question." Frank glanced out the window, glaring at the reporters. "Nobody really thinks like that guy…"

"Stop it Frank," Joe snapped. "Look," he said, turning to his brother, "I get that you want to help but lying to me isn't helping."

"Lying? I'm not lying to you Joe." Frank was honestly confused by his brother's accusation.

"Aren't you? Alright if you're not lying then why did that reporter ask those questions?"

"Because he's a jerk."

Joe choked back a bitter laugh. "He might be but he wouldn't ask that kind of stuff if he didn't know there are people wanting the answers."

"Not anybody that matters."

Joe turned away but not before Frank saw the obvious hurt in his blue eyes. "I'm sorry…"

"It matters to me Frank," Joe mumbled.

"I didn't mean it like that Joe. I just meant that none of our friends are thinking stuff like that. They know none of us, especially you, chose for those men to break into our home and terrorize us."

"Do you really think they'd tell you if they did think it?"

Frank couldn't help his shock at the question. "Has somebody said something to you?" Frank swore that if any of their friends had hurt Joe he would end the friendship, at the very least. He might, depending on what they'd done, have to make sure they regretted their actions.

"They don't have to."

"If nobody said anything then why do you think…what do you think exactly Joe?" Frank suddenly realized that while they were talking nothing specific had been said. He knew his brother was having a lot of trouble dealing with everything but he wasn't sure what Joe was worried about and he didn't want to put any ideas in his head in case it made things worse.

Joe sighed deeply. He knew Frank would argue with him and he appreciated that, but he knew the truth whether his brother wanted to accept it or not. Looking out the window he slowly answered his brother's question. "I think people look at me and they wonder why Red chose me? What did I do to make him pick me? Did I want his attention? Did Alex touch me? And then they decide that I brought it on, that I did something or said something to get Red's attention that more probably happened than we're telling."

"Joe I promise nobody…" he trailed off as the front doors opened and their parents slid into the car.

The moment the doors closed both turned towards the back seat. "Are you okay son?"

"I just want to go home Dad." He glanced at Frank, silently pleading for his silence. He really didn't want to deal with all three of them trying to convince him his feelings and perceptions were wrong.

"Just ignore what that horrible man said honey," Laura advised. "Honestly I don't know how he got a job with Caroline. He should be working at a tabloid."

Joe leaned his head back, letting his mother's words wash over him. She meant well, he knew that but he didn't want to talk. He just wanted to go home and curl up under the covers. He wondered if he could hide there until Alex got out of prison? Silently he laughed at his own thoughts. There was no way his family would let him get away with that and Alex wouldn't want him to anyway. He had made it clear that he wanted Joe to get back to living a normal life, or at least not hiding away in his room while life passed by. After everything Alex had done for him he couldn't let him down by wallowing in self-pity. But maybe it would be okay if he gave himself a few days. Alex would understand that, he was sure of it. He supposed it would be a mourning period in a way.

Bayport Times Offices later that day:

"You wanted to see me Mrs. Frazier?" Jock Steele asked as he stepped into his boss' office. He had a feeling he knew what this was about.

"Yes Mr. Steele," Caroline motioned for him to take a seat. She had been appalled when Laura called her. It was true that the questions were somewhat legitimate but they should have been asked of police officers, lawyers, even the perpetrator but not the victim. This was especially so when the primary victim was a fourteen year old boy.

"If this is…"

"Mr. Steele how long have you been employed by this paper?" Caroline coldly interrupted him.

"A couple of years."

"Long enough to know the sort of behavior expected of our reporters?"

Jock fiddled with his tie. "I guess so."

"Yet you still had the temerity to fire offensive, degrading questions at the fourteen year old victim of a horrible crime?"

Jock gulped. "They were legitimate questions," he weakly defended.

"Perhaps, but not for the victim of the crime. Mr. Steele we don't engage in that sort of tabloid, paparazzi type of behavior here. I will not have it, do you understand?" Caroline glared at him, daring him to respond in the negative.

"Yes ma'am, it won't happen again," Jock promised.

"I'm sure it won't. I think, however, that you would benefit from some sensitivity training of sorts."

"Mrs. Frazier I don't think I need to be sent to some class," Jock protested.

"I agree with you Mr. Steele. Those sorts of things are not really very useful except for those who genuinely wish to learn. I think we can both agree that group wouldn't include you. But you do need to learn sensitivity. With that in mind I have decided to assign you to the obituary column, perhaps there you will learn the sensitivity you need to be a successful reporter at my paper." She leaned forward, catching him in her gaze like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. "Let me be very clear here Mr. Steele. You will not ask questions of the bereaved beyond the necessary information needed for the obituary. You will not upset any person coming to you with unnecessary or intrusive questions. If you do your next assignment will be in the newspaper morgue and you won't be leaving that post unless you quit, die or retire. Do I make myself very clear?"

"Crystal Mrs. Frazier," Jock squeaked in response. He wanted to protest but he was very much afraid he'd be moving to the morgue immediately if he did.

"That will be all Mr. Steele," Caroline dismissed the odious little man.

The next day Alex Tomlinson was sentenced to a minimum of 15 years and a maximum of 25 years in the state penitentiary. The reporters noted the man didn't seem particularly upset by the sentence he had received. They speculated that he expected his father to pull strings in order to obtain him an early release.

"Yes," Carl Withers answered his phone. One look at the caller id had told him the call was from the Bayport detention center, in other words jail. Currently only one client was held in that facility.

"You know who this is?" Alex asked. He knew the call would be monitored and was therefore being very careful with his words.

"Yes. I assume you wish to ensure your friend is well taken care of?" This was a code of course, one created by his client and included in the package he'd been given when they met.

"Yes."

"You don't need to worry sir. Your friend will want for nothing."

"Thank you." With that Alex replaced the receiver. He smirked as he was led back to his cell, knowing the conversation would have the jailers scratching their heads. They would wonder who this friend was and if he was somebody to be concerned about. They would never guess the true meaning behind the short conversation. He knew Joe would have a difficult time of things for a while and he regretted that but for now it was simply unavoidable. "Don't worry Joey we won't be apart forever," the whispered promise barely audible.

TBC...

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	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Joe lay in his bed, the only noise coming from the radio playing in the background. Frank had tried to get him to go with him to Phil's or Chet's but he had refused. He didn't want to be around anybody right now. Why couldn't his family understand that? Alex would have understood. Since the end of the trial three days earlier Joe had barely left his room, coming out only for meals and bathroom breaks. He would have skipped the meals but his parents had refused to allow that. They might not be able to force him to leave the house they said but they weren't going to let him starve himself. He gave it another day before they insisted he spend some time downstairs, aside from meals.

"In breaking news," the announcer's voice came over the local station. "An accident on Interstate 86 today has claimed the lives of thirteen people. A prisoner transport bus lost control. According to witnesses the bus traveled down an embankment before coming to a stop against a concrete retaining wall. Witness reports aren't clear but it is believed that at least three prisoners managed to exit the vehicle before it was consumed by fire, killing the remaining ten prisoners, two guards and the driver. It is uncertain if Alex Tomlinson recently convicted on multiple charges in relation to an attack on the family of famed private investigator Fenton Hardy was among those who escaped. More information will be announced later as it becomes available."

Joe sat up, staring at the radio in shock. He prayed that Alex had managed to escape the burning bus. A shudder ran through him as the image of all those men, Alex among them, burning to death flashed before his eyes. He was going to be sick! Jumping up he ran to the bathroom, just barely making it in time. Vaguely he noticed the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs.

Fenton had been in his office when he'd got the news, directly from Chief Collig. His first thought was for his youngest. Quickly thanking the chief he disconnected and hurried upstairs. He knew it was foolish, even if Tomlinson were coming for Joe he couldn't be here so soon after the accident. But foolish or not he needed to see his son, to know that he was safe in his room. Never before had Fenton prayed for the death of another human being but as he ran up the stairs he fervently prayed that Alex Tomlinson had died in the accident.

Fenton's heart nearly stopped when he opened the door to his son's room only to find it empty. Logic quickly reasserted itself about the time he heard the sound of retching. Moving to the shared bathroom he stepped inside. It hurt to see his child in misery as his body gave up what little he had eaten. Like father's everywhere Fenton wished he could take away the pain his child was suffering, be it physical or emotional. As that wasn't possible he would have to content himself with offering comfort.

Joe didn't realize anybody had entered the small room until he felt a hand rubbing circles on his back. Glancing to his side he saw his father kneeling next to him, concern shining from his eyes. For a moment neither moved.

"Done?" Fenton quietly asked.

"Think so." Grasping his father's arm he rose shakily to his feet and moved to the sink. While he ran a glass of water and rinsed his mouth his father pulled some paper from the roll. "Thanks," Joe said as he took the paper, using some to blow his nose and the rest to wipe streaming eyes. Tossing the paper into the waste basket he looked curiously at his father. "You couldn't have known I was sick."

"No I didn't," Fenton admitted. "I had a call from Chief Collig," he explained realizing what his son was asking.

"About the bus crash?" Joe couldn't help the small laugh when he saw the startled look on his father's face. It wasn't often he managed to surprise the detective. "Sorry, don't usually surprise you," he explained as the surprise turned to concern.

"Oh," Fenton smiled in relief. He had thought for a second that the accident had been the final straw pushing his son over the precipice of sanity. "How did you know about it?"

"Radio," Joe answered simply.

"That explains worshipping the porcelain god."

Joe chuckled, it wasn't something he expected his father to say. Sobering he explained, "I could see them, all those men burning," he shuddered.

"Oh Joe," Fenton wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him close. He had thought the teen was sick at the thought of Tomlinson being loose. He should have known his more sensitive child would be concerned over the fates of those trapped on the bus rather than any danger he might be in. "I know it might be hard but try not to think too much about it. You can't help those men and making yourself sick won't serve any purpose."

"I know, it's just…Alex did protect me Dad and the thought of him dying like that…" Joe trailed off.

"I know son," Fenton soothed. Personally he hoped the man suffered more than any of them, that he would continue to suffer through eternity for the pain he'd caused his family, especially Joe. It was concern for his son, however, that held his tongue. Joe didn't need to know the dark thoughts running through his head. "There is a chance that Tomlinson escaped which is why I don't want you going anywhere alone until we know for certain that he's dead or he's been recaptured." Fenton didn't really think, given Joe's recent behavior that he really needed to worry about it. With Joe, though, it never hurt to cover all the bases.

"You think he'll try to get to me? Hurt me?" Joe could see his dad's point of view but he knew Alex wouldn't hurt him. He couldn't very well tell his father that, however, not without revealing the contact he'd had with the man. Joe jerked in his father's embrace as he suddenly realized a way he might discover whether or not Alex lived.

Fenton feeling Joe start thought it was fear and tightened his hold slightly. "I don't know son," he honestly replied. "I doubt it, though. He didn't strike me as a stupid man and if he did escape he must know you'll be watched especially close."

"Yeah, guess he would." Joe pulled away from his father. Stepping into his bedroom he flopped onto the bed.

Fenton sat down on the edge. "Is there anything I can do son?"

Joe shook his head. "I'll be okay Dad. It was just the shock mostly, I think."

"Are you sure?" Fenton wasn't convinced but there wasn't much he could do if Joe didn't want to talk.

"I'm sure." Joe rolled over so that he was facing the wall.

Fenton sighed, the move was clearly dismissive. Patting Joe's shoulder he reluctantly stood up. "I'll leave you alone then." Standing in the doorway he took one more look at his youngest, his heart aching as the boy once more withdrew from him. Quietly closing the door he headed back down the stairs. Laura needed to be told about the latest development.

On a quiet side street, unnoticed by any passerby, Carl Withers turned off the radio in his car. It seemed he had completed his assignment just in time. "Well that's it for me," he said as he steered the car towards his destination.

Joe waited for his father's steps to recede before going to his desk. Turning on the computer he waited impatiently for it to boot up. He was about to login to his messenger when it hit him. Even if Alex were alive he would be trying to get somewhere safe and might not be near a computer. Changing his mind he clicked on the mail icon.

_Alex,_

_I just heard the news on the radio. I'm scared, I can tell you that. I imagine you trapped inside with those other men, fire surrounding you as you choke on the smoke and fumes. It made me sick to imagine and I pray you were one of those who escaped. Please Alex if you're alive send me an email as soon as you're able. _

_Joey_

He had hesitated on the signature, finally opting to sign it with the familiar name Alex used for him. He didn't know why he didn't argue about it. He would have had anybody else tried to call him Joey but somehow it seemed right when Alex did it.

TBC...

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	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Phil Cohen watched with concern as the color drained from his friend's face. Standing up he moved to Frank's side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home," he offered. The moment the announcement had been made he knew Frank would be going home.

Frank turned startled brown eyes his friend's direction. "Huh?" His mind was racing with the possible ways to protect his brother from that animal. Alex Tomlinson would get near his little brother again over Frank's dead body.

Phil sighed, not really surprised that Frank hadn't heard him. "I said I'll give you a ride home."

Frank stood up, "Thanks but I have my own…"

"Which you are in no shape to drive," Phil interrupted. Might as well take your car," Phil held out his hand for the keys.

Frank couldn't argue the point. "What about you? How will you get back home?"

"I can always take a cab home." It was a relief when Frank handed the keys over without further argument. Leading the way down the stairs, he stopped off long enough to tell his mother he was giving Frank a ride home. They drove in silence to the Hardy family home, neither boy in the mood for small talk.

Frank stared out the window. He wanted to tell Phil to put the pedal to the floor, the hell with the speed limit. What did rule and law matter when his family, especially his brother, might be in danger? Would Tomlinson come after them if he was one of the escapees? It would make more sense to get as far away as he could as quickly as he could. Frank mentally scoffed.

The sensible thing to do when the SWAT team had them cornered, looked at with cold logic, would have been to use Joe as a human shield. Alex had instead used his own body to protect Joe from the onslaught of bullets. It would have been sensible to make a deal with the prosecutor or plead insanity but instead Tomlinson had opted for a trial. Running the moment he was out on bail would have been the choice of most criminals but not this one. Discrediting the witnesses during the trial would have been the next logical choice, yet Alex Tomlinson had stood up and changed his plea during Joe's testimony. Nothing he had done made logical sense to Frank.

No, he couldn't count on Tomlinson following the dictates of logic. The man was as likely to come after them again as he was to run. Frank had no doubt that if he did come after the Hardys again Joe would be his main target. The thing that frightened him the most was the uncertainty of what he might do should he get his hands on Joe again. He didn't really believe that Wyndham had been the only one interested in the children in that way.

Relief washed over him as home came into view. Barely had the car stopped and he was throwing open the door. Forgetting all about Phil, he ran inside and up the stairs. He opened the door to his brother's room without knocking. His knees nearly gave out on him at the sight of his brother lying on his bed.

Joe turned at the sound of the door opening. One look at his brother's face and he knew the older boy had heard the news. "You heard?" he nevertheless asked.

"Yeah," Frank confirmed. Stepping into the room he sat beside Joe. "You okay?"

Joe nodded. He wasn't, was consumed by worry for Alex but he knew he couldn't tell his brother that.

"He isn't going to get near you again, I promise little brother."

Joe smiled sadly. He wasn't surprised that Frank would think he was scared of that possibility. Most people would be, but Joe knew Alex was too smart to come near him, that was if he had survived the crash. "Has there been any more news?" He had turned the radio off, afraid of what he might hear.

"I don't know what you know," it was half statement, half question.

"I know the prison bus crashed and most of the people on it died. I know that three might have escaped and that Alex might be one of them. That's all I know."

Frank nodded. "That's all I've heard too. Do Mom and Dad know?"

"Dad does, Collig called him. I guess he would have told Mom."

"Probably," Frank agreed.

"Frank?" Phil called.

Frank slapped himself on the forehead, he'd forgotten all about Phil. "In here." A few seconds later Phil appeared in the doorway of Joe's room. "Sorry about that," Frank sheepishly apologized.

Phil waved the apology aside. "I would have done the same thing if it was my brother, well if I had a brother." He hovered uncertainly in the doorway.

"Come on in Phil," Joe invited.

Phil sat in the desk chair, tossing Frank's keys to him. "Thought you might want these back."

At Joe's questioning look Frank explained. "Phil drove me home."

"Why did he do that?" Joe didn't think he'd let anybody else drive his car once he had his license.

Frank mumbled response was impossible to understand.

Joe turned to Phil, asking him the same question.

"He was kind of upset about the news, I didn't think he should drive," Phil matter-of-factly explained.

"Oh," Joe felt stupid; he should have realized that for himself.

"Yeah Phil's turning into an old fuddy-duddy little brother." Frank knew what his brother was thinking as clearly as if it had been written on his forehead. He knew telling Joe that he wasn't stupid would be wasted breath at the moment, leaving him the option of lightening the mood. He only hoped Phil would understand and forgive him for doing so at his expense.

"Somebody has to look out for you foolish kids," Phil teased.

With that one sentence Frank knew his friend understood what he was trying to do. Phil might not know Joe well enough to read him, but he knew the older Hardy boy, reading him in much the same way Frank read his brother.

Joe chuckled. "Thanks Phil," he said when the laughter ended.

"Not a problem Joe."

Phil stayed a while longer, talking with his friends. As often happens when worried many bad jokes were exchanged, distracting them momentarily from the worry and fear. Phil had promised his mother he wouldn't stay long and finally he stood to say his goodbyes.

Feeling calmer now that he knew Joe was safe; Frank offered to drive him back home.

Joe said goodbye, waiting for the front door to close before moving to the computer. He had enjoyed the time with his brother and Phil but the anxious feeling had never fully left him. It had been a relief when both boys left, finally giving him the chance to check for any messages from Alex. He was disappointed to see that there were no new messages from the man. There were a few from his friends, Chet, Biff, Tony and a couple of others. Half-heartedly he opened each in turn, writing a short response. It seemed each had heard the news of the crash and were concerned about him. Joe appreciated their concern, he really did, but he couldn't help wishing that there had been a message from Alex instead.

Joe spent the rest of the day and evening periodically checking his email, hoping and praying for word from Alex. The inbox remained stubbornly bereft of messages from the one person he wanted to hear from. At precisely 9:16 that night Joe's prayers came to a screeching halt. A knock on his door admitted his father to the room with news.

"Joe I just received a call from Chief Collig," Fenton said from the doorway.

"Did they catch Alex?" Please God let that be it. Joe didn't want the man to go to prison but at least he'd be alive.

"No son," Fenton shook his head. He ignored, for now, that Joe still called the man by his first name. "Tomlinson wasn't one of the escapees."

Joe paled. "Are they sure?"

Fenton stepped into the room, taking a seat next to his son. "Yes son, they identified him by dental records." Laying a hand on Joe's shoulder he waited for the boy to look at him. "I thought you would be relieved that he won't be coming after you."

"Relieved? He saved me Dad and now he's de…if I hadn't testified he'd be alive." Joe curled in on himself the guilt and misery overwhelming him in that instant.

"Joe," Fenton gasped, shocked by his son's thoughts. "This is in no way your fault son. No wait," he interrupted the protest before it could be voiced. "even if you hadn't testified your mother, brother and Phil would have. Alex Tomlinson was going to prison no matter what."

"Maybe, but if I hadn't testified the trial would still be happening. He wouldn't have been on that bus," Joe pointed out.

"You pick the damndest times to get logical son," Fenton said, too surprised to edit himself. "Alright, say you're right, that doesn't mean he'd be alive. Maybe it was just his time."

Joe shrugged.

Clearly the teen wasn't convinced. "Look at it this way then son. If Alex had gone to prison he wouldn't have been treated well by the other inmates. They don't like men who prey on children," Fenton truthfully observed. "Dying in that crash might have been a kindness to him in the end." It was a kindness the detective believed was undeserved but if thinking of it that way soothed his son's unwarranted guilt then he would accept it.

"Can I be alone?" Joe whispered.

"Yes, but you come get me or your mother if you need us. No matter how late it is."

"I will," Joe promised though he had no intention of doing so. What would be the point when they couldn't understand how he felt?

Reluctantly Fenton stood up, leaving his son to his thoughts.

TBC...

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	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

"Hello Joe," Diane Saylor greeted her newest patient. Dressed in jeans and a nice blouse Diane settled into her seat, one leg curled up under her in a naturally casual pose. The majority of her patients were the victims of sexual assault and/or young and she had found most responded better to a casual atmosphere rather than a more formal one. The truth was she did as well. When first beginning her practice she had dressed both herself and her office formally; she hadn't been comfortable and neither had her patients.

Today her office reflected her true personality, the room was painted in soft hues and while one wall held a bookshelf covered in a variety of small toys and knick knacks along with a few books, another wall was taken up by a large aquarium filled with colorful fish. The remaining walls held desk and chairs while a few pictures adorned the walls. Diane with her casual dress and long red hair kept in a loose pony tail fit perfectly into this office. More relaxed herself she found it easier to put her patients at ease.

"Hello," came the mumbled response.

"I'd like to begin with a question I ask all of my patients. Why do you think you're here?" Many times Diane had found that, when dealing with teens, their perception of the situation differed greatly from that of their parents.

Joe shrugged. A few days after the bus crash Joe had finally started going outside again, only the yard but it was a start. He was trying to deal with everything that had happened but it wasn't easy. Alex had actually helped him a lot, not that anybody else knew about it. His friends had tried to be supportive but they just couldn't understand the way he felt and they quickly grew impatient with him. His family was better but even they had trouble understanding why he barely wanted to go outside. He dreaded school starting in a couple of weeks.

"You must have some idea," Diane encouraged.

"I guess they want me to act like I used to," Joe listlessly responded.

"Your family?"

"Yeah."

"You don't want that?" It was important for her to understand the boy's thought processes. Diane understood, of course, that he would never be the same as he was before the day of the attack. An event like that was life changing whether the victim wanted it to be or not.

"I do but…" Joe looked down, playing with the edge of his shirt.

Diane waited for him to continue. There was a fine line to be walked here.

"I don't know how to be that kid anymore," he miserably completed the thought.

"I think your family understands that."

Joe's head shot up. "Then why do they keep trying to make me leave the house or talk to my friends?"

"You know I've spoken to your parents?" Receiving a nod from her patient Diane continued. "From what they've told me they don't expect you to become who you were before the assault. Yes they want you to get back into life, which includes speaking more to your friends as well as leaving the house. They don't want to see you hiding yourself away, immersing yourself in depression."

"I have a right to be depressed," Joe snapped.

"You do," Diane calmly agreed. "Nobody is blaming you for your feelings Joe."

"They just want to tell me how to feel."

"Do you really want to feel like this for the rest of your life? Do you want to spend your life hiding in a dark room and letting the men who hurt you win?" Diane knew that for many victims thinking of the battle to move past the effects of their trauma as a contest between them and their attacker could give them the boost of determination needed to recover.

"Alex tried to protect me," Joe protested.

Diane quickly made note of that. Joe's father had told her he saw one of the men as his protector. Obviously it was too soon to address that issue directly. "What about the other man, Gary Wyndham?"

Joe shuddered. "He hurt me."

"What did he do?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then why don't we talk about how you feel about his actions," Diane suggested.

"How do you think it made me feel?" Joe glared at this new therapist. Why couldn't they all just leave him alone and let him deal with it on his own?

"If I knew the answer to that Joe I'd be a mind reader." Diane was careful to keep her voice light and calm.

For several minutes Joe stared at Dr. Saylor in sullen silence. He considered not answering; after all it had worked with the last therapist. There was something different about this doctor, and he felt like she honestly wanted to know. Maybe she even cared. "I feel dirty. There must be something about me that made him want to do those things."

Diane wasn't surprised by the feelings. She noticed that Joe was speaking in the present tense and made a note of that in her files. "So you believe that you somehow caused the assault?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

"I just want to be sure I understand you Joe. We won't get very far if you say one thing and I hear another or vice versa. Do you think your family blames you?"

Joe shook his head so rapidly it was a wonder he didn't give himself whiplash. "They should but they don't."

"Would you blame your mother or brother if they had been the one Wyndham wanted?" she reasonably asked.

"I'm not stupid you know."

"I wasn't aware I had accused you of stupidity." 

"You expect me to say no and then realize it's stupid to blame myself."

Diane chuckled. "Busted," there was no point in denying the accusation and in fact it would be detrimental to the process.

Joe stared at the woman. He hadn't expected that.

"Do think maybe that's what Wyndham wanted you to think?"

He hadn't thought of that before. Could he want him blaming himself? Was he watching him from beyond and laughing at him. "I don't know," he finally replied.

"I'm going to give you some pamphlets to read Joe," Diane said as she reached into her desk. "I think," she continued, handing him a couple of them, "you need to understand some of the dynamics of sexual assault."

Joe gasped; it was the first time anybody had called it that. His family tiptoed around it, they spoke of Red hurting him but if he even hinted about where it would have led they would change the subject. He had told Frank about it once and his brother had held him, offering comfort; they hadn't spoken of it since. Did they think that refusing to call it what it was made it less difficult to deal with? "But he didn't rrape me," he stuttered a protest. Would she back off and start tiptoeing like his family or would she insist it was what it was?

"No, but what he did was still a sexual assault, wasn't it?" Diane needed her young patient to admit, if only to himself, the truth of what had happened. She didn't know all of the details herself but knowing what she did it was easy to see there had been a sexual aspect to the assault Wyndham had inflicted.

"Yeah, so I don't need these," he tried to hand the pamphlets back to her.

"Before I let you out of your homework assignment I want you to tell me why some men sexually assault others."

"Well that's pretty obvious isn't it?"

"Humor me."

Joe sighed, "Fine. They want sex and there's something about the person they attack that makes them think that person wants it too or can be forced into it." He frowned when his attempt to return the pamphlets was rebuffed.

"Actually sex has very little to do with it," Diane said and as usually happened her patient was clearly surprised by the statement.

"How do you figure that?" Joe was beginning to wonder if maybe his therapist needed therapy.

"You read those pamphlets and any other information you can find if there isn't enough there," she nodded at the booklets he held. "When you come back next week we'll talk about it some more."

Reluctantly Joe tucked the pamphlets into his back pocket. "That it?"

"For this session but I do have one more homework assignment for you. It won't be easy Joe but it is necessary."

Joe glared suspiciously. He really didn't like the sound of that. "And?"

"I want you to go to one place away from home on at least two occasions in the coming week. You can go alone or ask your brother or a friend to accompany you."

"I'm not ready for…"

"Joe you'll never be ready, nobody ever is. You need to learn how to be around people without becoming uncomfortable or worse. I'm not asking you to go to the mall, though that is an option. You can go to a park, a friend's house, the library, as long as it is a location with other people and you spend at least thirty minutes in the location you choose."

"What if I don't?"

"You'll be hurting yourself mostly. Yes your parents and brother will be upset that you aren't improving, but you're the one who won't be learning how to function in a world that for you has changed."

Once more Joe was caught by surprise. "Nobody else gets that," except Alex but he wasn't here any more. Joe felt a pang of sadness at that thought.

"It isn't because they don't care," Diane quickly assured. Joe needed to understand that above all else. His family might not realize that his world was different, it would forever be colored by the events of a sleepy June day, but that wasn't due to a lack of caring. While traumatized and affected themselves they had only borne witness to Joe's trauma a much less life changing trauma.

"I know, but they don't get it."

"No," Diane agreed. "Will you do the assignment Joe?"

"I'll try."

Diane knew it was the best she was going to get right now. "Try hard," she smiled. She made a note to call the school tomorrow. Arrangements would need to be made for Joe to be given frequent breaks from classes if he needed them. A refuge should be arranged, a small office would do, as long as he could be alone whenever he felt the need. If all went well the refuge would no longer be needed by Christmas break, or would only be required infrequently after that.

"I will," Joe promised.

TBC...

Please feed the muse with reviews.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Joe sat on top of the picnic table, watching a group of kids playing basketball. Beside him his brother sat watching him. Joe squirmed, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "Stop it," Joe snapped.

Frank jerked, surprised by the sudden outburst. "Joe?"

Joe sighed, he knew that tone. "Stop watching me."

"I'm…I didn't mean to upset you," Frank apologized. He had almost denied the charge but luckily good sense had prevailed. Joe wouldn't appreciate the obvious lie.

"I'm not going to fly apart."

Frank's eyebrow raised as he watched his brother's grip on the edge of the table tighten. Like a sprinter waiting for the starting gun to fire Joe was leaning forward, feet poised to run, his very posture gave the lie to his statement. "Is that why you're sitting like that?"

Joe looked down at himself, finally noticing his position. "Okay, well maybe I'm a little nervous," he quietly admitted.

"What are you nervous about?"

Joe shrugged. "It's just hard, being around people."

"But why is it hard? You've always like being with people." Frank was genuinely confused.

"Well I don't anymore," Joe jumped off the table and started walking towards the car. He didn't turn around to see if Frank was following him, he assumed he would be.

Frank stared after his younger brother uncertainly. Should he go after him or let the younger boy have some time to cool off?

"Is he okay?" Biff's voice startled Frank, making him jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Frank shook his head, "Just startled me."

"Okay. Is Joe alright?" Biff asked again.

"I don't know," Frank admitted. "When did you get here?"

"Thought you were a detective," Biff teased.

"Huh?"

"I've been here all along Frank, playing basketball."

Frank blushed. "I wasn't paying any attention to who was playing."

Biff chuckled, "Obviously." He looked in the direction Joe had taken. He could just make out the other blond nearing the parking lot. "You think it'd be okay if I talked to him?" Biff had tried a few times over the summer to talk to Joe through email and instant messaging but the replies he had received might as well have come from a stranger.

"You can try but don't be surprised if he doesn't say much," Frank warned the other teen.

Saying nothing more, Biff turned and headed down the path Joe had taken. When he was near enough he called out to his friend.

Joe considered ignoring the call but he knew Biff well enough to know the other boy would just keep coming. He'd also probably be mad by the time he caught up if Joe didn't stop. With these thoughts in mind he reluctantly stopped, waiting for the other teen to catch up.

"Hey," Biff stood scuffing his foot in the dirt. Now that he had caught up to his friend he wasn't sure what to say.

"Hey," Joe mumbled. Crossing his arms over his chest he stood waiting. The silence stretched on. "Well if that's all I'll…"

"No," Biff nearly yelled. Several people turned to look at the two teens. Blushing he lowered his voice. "I don't…you want to play a game?" he gestured towards the basketball court.

Joe shook his head. He was barely able to handle being here in the park there was no way he was ready to play a game with a bunch of guys. This was his second outing and it wasn't going any better than the first had.

"I thought you were over your injuries," Biff half asked, half stated. He looked Joe up and down but he didn't see any obvious problems.

"I just don't want to play."

"Why not?" Biff persisted. He'd missed his friend this summer. Seeing him sitting next to his brother he had hoped Joe was finally back.

"I don't have to explain anything to you," Joe snapped. God he was tired. Why couldn't everybody just leave him alone?

Biff took a step back. "I thought we were friends," he said in a subdued voice.

Joe sighed. "We were."

"But we're not now?"

"I'm not somebody you should be friends with," Joe turned away.

Biff was shocked but not so much that he would let the best friend he'd ever had walk away. "You're gonna have to explain that Joe," he laid a hand on the other boy's shoulder.

"I don't owe you anything," Joe jerked away.

Biff moved to stand in front of the other blond, blocking his path. "We've been friends forever Joe. I think I deserve to know why you don't want to be friends anymore."

"I can't be who you want me to be," Joe moved to the side, intending to step around the larger teen.

Biff moved with him. "I want you to be my friend, like always."

"But I can't be."

"Why not?" Biff yelled. He was becoming frustrated.

"Because your friend doesn't exist anymore!" Joe yelled. Shoving the other boy away he ran past him. In the parking lot he ignored Frank's car, running on towards the street he paid no attention to the calls from behind him.

Frank had stayed back, giving the two younger teens some privacy. He hoped Biff could get Joe to talk, maybe even stay in the park longer than the required thirty minutes. Watching the two it was easy to read the tension in his brother's stance. Frank was just about to step forward when Joe shoved Biff and took off. He hurried forward. "What happened," he demanded.

"I'm not sure," Biff replied. In a few sentences he relayed the short conversation. "I'm sorry Frank, I didn't mean to upset him," the apology came complete with hangdog expression.

Biff, in that moment, looked so much like his bloodhound Sherlock that Frank nearly laughed. He resisted the urge knowing it would hurt the other boy. "It's not your fault Biff. Joe hasn't been himself ever since that day."

"Isn't there anything we can do?"

"It's up to Joe mostly. His therapist says the best thing any of us can do is just to be there for him, but we have to let him set the pace."

Biff's eyes bugged out. "Therapist? Joe's seeing a shrink?"

Frank fixed him with the most serious look he could manage. "That doesn't go any further Biff."

"I wouldn't talk about Joe behind his back," Biff protested.

"Sorry, I just worry about him." Frank looked towards the parking lot. "Where did Joe go?" He didn't wait for an answer but instead hurried towards the car, swiveling his head as he went. He didn't see Joe anywhere.

"Maybe he headed home," Biff suggested, having followed after the older Hardy.

Frank nodded absently. "I need to go Biff, see if I can find him. If he comes back keep him here and call me, okay?"

"You can count on me Frank," Biff assured the other teen. "Call me if you find him?"

"I will." Jumping behind the wheel Frank started the engine and backed out of his spot.

Biff watched him go. He hoped the other boy would remember to call him if he caught up to Joe. Fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, he glanced at it making sure it was on and charged.

Joe knew he should have waited for Frank but all he could think of was getting home to the safety of his room. He hated being around other people. The teen was sure they all knew he was tainted, a freak. The men were the worst. He wondered which ones were looking at him and seeing the person Red had seen. Would one of them, if given the chance, hurt him? Did they want to do the things to him that Red had wanted to? Maybe he should have explained that to Biff, he would understand then why he shouldn't be around Joe. But he couldn't tell him without telling him about Red and what had happened in the kitchen.

"Not like he doesn't know what Red wanted," Joe mumbled as he ran. There had been several articles in the papers about Red and Alex, detailing the things they'd done over the years. None of the victims had been named but it was common knowledge in Bayport that the Hardy family had been the last family attacked by the two men. You didn't have to be very smart to figure out what kind of things Red might have done to him would have done if Alex hadn't stopped him.

Jack Prentiss ran these streets daily, determined to stop the middle aged spread so many of his friends were experiencing. He saw a young blond running down the cross street. It was easy to see the boy was upset and not paying attention to his surroundings as he headed for the intersection. Jack yelled, though he doubted the boy realized it was him the warning was directed at. Putting on a burst of speed he sprinted forward. He reached the intersection a split second after the boy. The child took a step off the curb and Jack grasped at his shirt, jerking him backwards so hard that they both fell into the grass.

"No! Let me go!" Joe screamed. Lashing out with fists and feet he desperately tried to escape his attacker.

Afraid the boy would take off again, right into the path of a car; Jack ignored the boy's cries. Straddling the teen he finally managed to pin the child's arms above his head. "Calm down son, I'm not going to hurt you." He might as well have been talking to the air as the boy beneath him continued to struggle against his hold.

This was the scene Frank came upon as he drove towards the house. Coming to a screeching halt he jumped from the car, the large flashlight kept beneath the seat in one hand, his cell phone in the other. As he ran he was dialing 911. "Assault, Clark Avenue," he yelled into the phone just before he reached his brother. Without warning he struck the man pinning his brother to the ground with the flashlight, catching him on the side of his head. "Leave my brother alone!"

"Damn kid," Jack muttered, one hand going to the side of his head. The kid packed a wallop. "I wasn't going to hurt him." By now a crowd had gathered, glancing around Jack could see looks of anger and disgust on the faces surrounding him.

"Take care of your brother kid," a burly man said as he moved to stand near the man on the ground. "I'll make sure this bastard stays put."

Jack looked up at the man, gulping loudly when he saw the anger on the other man's face.

Frank nodded, "Thanks." Dropping to his knees, he reached for his brother only for the younger boy to flinch from his touch. "It's okay Joe, you're safe now," he soothed.

"Frank?" Joe looked up. "I thought you were," he shuddered.

"Are you hurt?" Frank asked. He thought it best to keep to practical issues right now. He was very much afraid that his little brother would break down if he said the wrong thing, mortifying them both.

Joe moved his arms and legs. "I don't think so."

"Think you can stand up?"

Joe nodded and accepting his brother's hand he came to his feet just as a patrol car pulled up.

Con Riley had heard the alert on his radio. Several calls had come in reporting an assault and possible abduction of a child on Clark Avenue, near the park. Acknowledging the alert Con raced towards the scene. In the distance he could hear other sirens as fellow officers answered the call. There were few things cops hated more than those who would hurt a child. "Oh hell," he cursed under his breath when he saw the car parked in the street, the driver's door hanging open. Parking his cruiser he headed towards the gathering crowd. He hoped Frank had only stopped to help. Reaching the center of the group he knew Frank wasn't here by chance.

"This is the guy you want officer," a voice called. "He attacked that kid there," the burly man to whom the voice belonged continued.

Con's heart sank. Poor kid, he really didn't need this. If looks could kill the middle-aged man on the ground would have been six feet under. "Is that right?" he growled. Reaching down he grabbed the man's arm, jerking him to his feet.

Jack quailed under the look. "It isn't what you think officer," he said. To Jack's horror the cop wasn't listening. Spinning him around the officer roughly pulled Jack's arms behind him. He winced as the metal of the cuffs bit into his wrists; vaguely he was aware of the cop reading him his rights. "I wasn't trying to hurt the kid," he said.

"Frank?" Con asked, turning towards the teens.

"I was looking for Joe…"

"Why were you looking for Joe?"

"We were at the park and he ran off. I thought he might be headed home," Frank explained.

"Okay," Con nodded. "So you were looking for Joe, and?"

"I saw that guy on top of Joe, pinning his arms above him. Joe was struggling but you see how big the guy is," Frank gestured towards the handcuffed prisoner.

The gathering crowd was nodding as they murmured agreement with Frank's story.

"You still say you weren't trying to hurt the kid?" Con asked his prisoner.

"I was trying to save his life."

"Come again?"

"He was running, looked like he was upset. He was headed for the intersection and not paying any attention. I yelled at him but I don't think he knew I was yelling at him, if he even heard me. I grabbed his shirt just as he stepped off the curb and jerked him backwards. We fell in the grass and he started screaming and fighting. I was afraid if I let him go he'd take off again and run into the street." Jack looked at the crowd, seeing nothing but looks of disbelief. "I swear that's the truth."

By now other officers had arrived on the scene. Con turned the suspect over to one of them as he stepped over to the two young Hardys. "Joe, are you sure this guy was trying to hurt you?"

Joe shook his head. He felt like an idiot. As he had listened to the guy telling Con what had happened he had realized he might have overreacted. He remembered the guy saying he wasn't going to hurt him, trying to calm him down. "I was running," he confirmed.

"And then what happened?" Con gently asked.

"He grabbed me and I tried to get away but he was on top of me, holding my arms down," Joe was panting, his breath coming in quick gasps.

"Calm down little brother, deep breaths," Frank spoke with a calmness he didn't feel. The last thing they needed was for Joe to have a panic attack.

"Did he threaten you?" Con asked.

Joe shook his head. "I'm sorry," he hung his head, the picture of misery.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joe," Frank quickly assured the younger boy.

Con looked around the crowd. "Did anybody see what happened?" He instantly regretted the question as many voices tried to yell what they had seen.

"Officer, I saw the whole thing," a petite woman pushed her way to the front of the crowd.

"You are?"

"Shirley Johnston," she replied. "I live across the street. I was sitting in the front yard, reading," she explained. "I heard somebody yell stop and looked up just in time to see this man grab a kid and pull him away from the street."

"Are you certain that's what happened?"

"Yes sir. The kid was about to run into the street. As heavy as the traffic is he would have been hit, there isn't a doubt in my mind about that. That man you're trying to arrest saved that boy's life, or at least kept him from being badly hurt."

Jack sagged in relief. When the first officer on the scene started talking to the kids like he knew them the middle-aged business man had been sure he would end up in prison. That thought had been cemented when the voices of the crowd shouted out accusations. A nod from the man in question and Jack felt the cuffs being released. Brining his arms around to the front, he rubbed his wrists. "Can I go now?"

"I need to get some information from you first," Con replied. It didn't take long to gain the basic information needed for the report. "Do you want to press charges?" he finally asked. He didn't want to but Frank had hit him, Prentiss was within his rights to have him charged.

Jack looked towards the boys. It would take somebody with a harder heart than his to charge a boy for protecting his brother. "No, I can't really blame the kid for thinking I was hurting his brother."

Joe looked up, giving the older man a grateful smile. He had been afraid his brother was going to be taken to jail and it would have been his fault. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

"Me too, guess I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," Frank added.

Jack waved off the apology, "My head's harder than it looks boys." Uncertainly he stepped closer. He didn't know the whole story but when the blond flinched away Jack knew this was much more than a simple misunderstanding. He hoped whoever had hurt the kid had paid for it. "Jack Prentiss," he introduced, holding out his hand.

Frank took the hand, "Frank Hardy. This is my little brother Joe."

Joe took the offered hand, but where Frank's grip had been strong and sure Joe's was hesitant and quickly withdrawn.

Hearing the names gave Jack a better understanding of the child's reactions, both boys really. "Interesting meeting," Jack smiled. Both boys blushed. "I'm not angry at either of you. I can understand how it could have looked. Just do me one favor Joe."

"What?" the blond was almost afraid to ask. But with Frank by his side and the cops still there he knew the man couldn't do anything if that was what he wanted.

"Next time you want to go for a run watch out for traffic," Jack answered with a wry smile.

Joe blushed, "I will," he promised. They watched Jack walk away. The excitement over, the crowd soon dispersed.

"Frank you want to move your car?" Con nodded in the direction of the street.

"Come on little brother," Frank laughed. "We better get home before Con decides to give me a ticket."

Joe nodded. Silently they walked to the car, neither boy in the mood for conversation. As Joe slid into his seat he found a cell phone being tossed his way.

"Give Biff a call," Frank instructed.

"Biff?"

"He felt pretty bad for upsetting you."

Joe looked away. He hadn't meant to make Biff feel bad.

"Call him Joe," Frank quietly ordered.

Joe nodded, dialing the number.

"Frank! Did you find him? I heard sirens was that cause of Joe?" Biff frantically shouted the questions into the phone.

"Yeah he found me," Joe answered once the other boy wound down.

"Joe," Biff smiled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay Biff."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"I probably shouldn't have run off like I did," Joe admitted. "I don't want you to feel bad Biff. It wasn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have pushed you." Biff wasn't ready to absolve himself.

Joe bit his lip. He wasn't sure what to say. "You just wanted answers," is what he finally settled on. "Look Biff we're almost home so, um, bye." He hit the end button without giving the other boy the chance to respond. He laid the phone on the seat and turned his head to the window, ignoring the looks his brother was aiming in his direction.

TBC...

Please feed the muse with reviews.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Jack Prentiss accepted the parcel from the delivery man standing outside his door. He wondered what it could be. He wasn't expecting anything. With a shrug he closed the door and carried the small package into the living room. He put the package on the coffee table while he went to the desk to get some scissors.

Sitting on the couch he pulled the package to him and began to cut the tape holding it closed. Laying the scissors aside he opened the flaps, gasping loudly as he did so. His hand shook as he reached into the box. It couldn't be real could it? Wrapping his hand around a stack of bills he pulled them from the box. Examining them carefully he was sure they were the real thing but why would somebody send him a box filled with stacks of cash? There had to be a mistake somewhere, it was the only explanation. Closing the flaps he stared at his name and address printed in block letters on the box.

His heart felt as if it would jump out of his chest at any moment as he attempted to count the first stack of money. He could hardly focus with the result that it took three tries before he could determine the amount in just the one stack of money. He fell against the back of the couch stunned into inaction as his mind tried to process what his eyes were telling him. The single stack of bills totaled five thousand dollars and there were at least ten stacks inside the box, he hadn't counted them yet. Fifty thousand dollars! Somebody had sent him, Jack Prentiss, for some unknown reason at least fifty thousand dollars! There might be more than that. Could he keep it? Was it legal to be given such a large amount of money for no reason?

One by one he pulled the stacks from the box, counting as he did. His first estimate, he soon realized, was way off. The box didn't hold ten stacks of bills, it held double that amount. He found the note under the money.

_Mr. Prentiss,_

_I'm sure you must be wondering why you have been gifted with this money. The explanation is quite simple. Two days ago you saved the life of a young boy, a stranger to you. You asked no reward, you expected no favors, you only wished to save a young boy from tragedy. I have a great deal of money Mr. Prentiss, more than I could ever possibly use, and no wife or child to share it with. I, therefore made the decision to watch the papers, rewarding those I feel are deserving; people such as yourself Mr. Prentiss who help others with no thought to their own safety and no thought of reward. Please enjoy the money, report it or not as you see fit. I never report these rewards to the authorities as I wish to take no tax credit for them. To do so would in fact quite defeat the purpose of the rewards. _

_An anonymous benefactor_

Jack couldn't believe, well of course he believed after all the evidence was staring him in the face, but still…it was unbelievable. He hadn't even realized there had been anything in the paper about the incident near the park. The stunned look slowly morphed into a face splitting grin as he realized what this meant. He could finally start his own business. Jack had always loved photography but practicality had forced him into a career in accounting. He had started out as a simple bookkeeper, steadily moving up the ladder until he stalled out in middle management. He made a good living but he would never be one of the shakers and movers of the business world, nor was he really happy. The only time he could lay claim to happiness was on the weekends and vacations when he was able to indulge his passion for photography. With this money and his savings he could start a photography business. There was a house he'd had his eye on for a while. It was in an area that was mostly residential but zoned for small businesses as well. Jack had been thinking about buying the place, converting it to serve as both home and business, money had been the only thing holding him back. It would have taken most of his savings to buy the house along with the necessary equipment for his business, leaving him very little to live on while he was getting the business up and running. That was no longer a factor; even the gift tax he would have to pay would still leave him with enough to attempt his dream.

Dr. Saylor's Office:

Diane watched her young patient step into the room. He seemed tense, uneasy; it didn't bode well for his homework assignment. "How are you doing today Joe?"

"I'm okay," Joe shrugged.

Clearly this was a lie. "I'm okay, you're okay," Diane joked. "Now how are you really doing?"

"I…why did you make me go out last week?" Joe snapped. He was still angry about what had happened at the park. It had been hard, seeing other kids playing ball without a care in the world knowing he would never be one of them again. And the men he saw in the park, was even worse. How could anybody expect him to be around people when he didn't know who could be trusted?

"You know why Joe," Diane gently returned. "I take it things didn't go well."

Joe glared. "It was horrible."

"Tell me about it."

"I just went to Phil's with Frank the first time, that wasn't too bad. His mother gave me some weird looks but she was doing the same to Frank and he isn't a…anyway she stopped when Phil glared at her. After that it was okay."

"What did you do there?"

Joe shrugged, "Nothing really. Just played some video games and hung out."

"Did Phil tell you why his mother was looking weirdly at you?"

"I didn't ask him."

"Why not?"

Joe stood up and walked over to the aquarium. Squatting down he stared at the colorful fish swimming peacefully within the tank. He wished he could be like them; life would be so much easier then.

Diane watched him for several minutes. "Joe?"

"I don't know."

Diane frowned. "I think you do."

Joe traced a finger along the glass, following the path taken by a small fish, one of the smallest in the tank. "Scary isn't it fishy?" he spoke quietly but not so quiet that Diane couldn't hear. "So many of them are bigger than you, they could hurt you if they wanted."

"Is that why you didn't ask? Were you afraid of being hurt?" Diane softly asked.

Joe nodded. "But she looked at Frank the same way and he isn't…"

"That's twice now you've mentioned that only to stop. Tell me Joe what is it that Frank isn't? What are you that your brother isn't?"

Joe leaned his forehead against the tank. He stayed like that for several minutes, staring silently at the swimming fish. He could sense Dr. Saylor watching him, waiting for his answer. He didn't want to say it. Saying it would make it true somehow, he was sure of it. Maybe she would give up, go on to something else if he stayed silent. No, she wouldn't do that; the doctor would sit quietly for as long as it took it was a trait he'd picked up on almost immediately.

"A freak, he isn't a freak," Joe finally replied, nearly choking on the words.

"You think you are?" Diane's first instinct, as any decent person's would be, was to deny the child's words. She knew that would be the worst thing she could do. Joe wouldn't see the denial as an affirmation of his worth but rather an attempt to placate him. The teen would think Diane was only patronizing him, trying to make him feel better by claiming what he saw as truth to be a lie. Joe had to realize for himself that he wasn't a freak.

Joe looked away from the aquarium, staring at his therapist in shocked surprise. "Red wouldn't have picked on me if I wasn't."

"Did you read the pamphlets I gave you?"

Joe nodded.

"But you still think you somehow caused what Red did? Why do you think that Joe?"

"I don't know." He couldn't tell her the truth. She would tell his parents and they'd be disgusted by him. But they should be, shouldn't they?

"Don't you?"

Jumping to his feet he spun to face her, fists clinched so tightly his nails dug into the palms. He didn't feel a thing. "I told you I don't! Quit pushing me to answer your questions!"

"Then don't lie to me," Diane calmly retorted.

Joe stared, breath coming in heaving gasps as he tried and failed to formulate an answer. "I don't know how I caused it but I know I did."

"Alright Joe, I believe you." Diane saw the problem now. "Do you remember when I told you this won't work if one of us is hearing something different than what is said?"

"Yeah," Joe sulked.

"I think that's what's happening here. You thought I was asking what you did to cause Red to hurt you."

"Isn't it?"

"No Joe. I wanted to know why you think that you did something to cause it."

"Oh," Joe blushed. He felt stupid now. "And if I tell you I don't know?"

"I would say you probably have an idea, don't you?"

Joe turned back to the fish. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough."

"You mean that's all I had to say?"

Diane smiled, "Yes Joe that's all. I won't accept lies but if you don't want to talk about something we won't, for a time."

Joe cocked his head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"You don't want to talk about this topic, okay I'll let it go for today. But we will have to talk about it eventually."

"Why?"

"Because you won't heal as fully as possible if you don't talk about your issues and concerns," Diane truthfully answered.

"As fully as possible?"

"We both know you'll never be the boy you were before the attack. Getting you back to so-called normal isn't the goal of therapy."

"What is the goal then?"

"To help you recover as much as you can so that you can lead a life, whether it's a good life or a bad one will be up to you to a large extent." Diane allowed him a few minutes to think about her words before continuing the session. "So let's talk about the second outing, okay?"

Joe hung his head, "It didn't go very good."

"Tell me about it."

So Joe did. He told her everything about that day in the park. From the way Frank kept watching him to how he had felt on edge the entire time, to the confrontation with Biff and his headlong rush that nearly got him killed.

"That must have been terrifying, being grabbed like that."

Joe shuddered. Even though he knew the truth he could easily remember the blinding terror that had gripped him when Jack Prentiss first grabbed his shirt. "I thought...I was afraid it was another man like Red."

"That's understandable."

"But I should have realized…"

"Why?"

Joe shrugged. "I don't know, cause most people aren't like that."

"That's true," Diane agreed. "But some are and after what you went through I would be shocked if you hadn't reacted with fear."

"You would?" Joe could hardly believe what he was hearing. He had expected her to tell him that he had been foolish to assume that Prentiss was going to hurt him.

"Of course. Many crime victims, particularly victims of sexual crimes, become more fearful, less trusting than before their attacks. It is a completely normal reaction; the trick is to learn to use the fear to help you avoid becoming a victim again without allowing the fear to control you."

"How do I do that?" Joe was honestly curious.

"Fear keeps us alert to our surroundings, to possible dangers and if you use your natural fear in that way it may allow you to see danger coming before it's too late. But if you allow the fear to control you, as it did in the park, it will blind you to those same dangers and send you into panic mode if you are attacked. Panicked people are vulnerable people and make for very good victims. If this man, Jack Prentiss, had been another predator he could have had you in a car and away from help before you had a chance to so much as yell for help."

"If I stayed home stuff like that couldn't happen."

Diane raised one eyebrow. "You of all people should know better than that," she chided.

Joe blushed. "Okay, but my mother opened the door without looking. I know now that's a bad idea so I'd be safe."

"Perhaps, but you wouldn't be living would you?"

"It'd be enough," Joe stubbornly argued.

"Really? You think you could be happy watching your brother leaving for school everyday while you remained behind? Hearing about all the activities you were missing out on wouldn't bother you?"

"But you know what happened in the park. You said it yourself if he'd been a predator I would have been in trouble."

"True, but that's because you allowed your fear to control you instead of using it to your advantage. The more you go out into the world the better you'll become at using the fear. You'll learn to be more alert to danger and as you become more alert you'll soon realize there aren't nearly as many dangers in the world as you think there are in this moment." Diane looked at the clock, realizing their time was up for today. "Well I think that's enough for today."

Joe just kept himself from running for the door in his eagerness to be out of the office.

"You have a choice of homework for this next week," Diane stopped him before he could make good his exit.

Joe stopped, shoulders slumping.

"You can do two more, field trips we could call them, same deal as this past week or you can do only one."

Joe was about to grab onto the chance at only one when he realized it was too easy. "What's the catch?"

Diane smiled. "Well you're certainly not dumb are you? The catch is simple, if you only go to one place it must be a public place, though it needn't be crowded, and you must remain there for a full hour. You don't have to make a decision today; you can let me know what you chose at your next appointment."

TBC...

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	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"I don't think I can start school next week," Joe announced.

Diane wasn't really surprised by the statement. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry Joe but with school beginning next week we can't not talk about this," Diane sincerely apologized. She never enjoyed pushing her patients but there were times it couldn't be helped.

Joe glared but he knew he wouldn't be allowed to avoid the question. "I'm not like the other kids and they know it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true," Joe snapped.

Diane took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. "Why do you think it's true?" With no answer forthcoming Diane tried again. "Did something happen during one of your field trips?"

"I only went to one place."

"And where did you go?" Diane ignored his avoidance of the question for now.

"The mall."

Diane's eyes widened, after the park she had expected Joe to stick to sparsely populated areas. "Why did you choose the mall?"

"You said it had to be public," Joe accused.

"I did," Diane calmly agreed.

"I knew there'd be more people at the mall but there are security guards there too."

"That made you feel safer," Diane guessed.

"A little."

"Was that the only reason you chose the mall?"

"You said I had to stay an hour and it's easier to keep moving at the mall but not really do anything."

"You couldn't do that at the park?"

Joe shuddered, "The park is too…"

"Too what?" Diane gently asked.

"Too big, too open," Joe whispered.

"That scares you?"

"It'd be easy for somebody like Red to find me there."

"You don't think they could find you at the mall?"

Joe shook his head, "But there are guards there to help and they can lock the doors to keep everybody safe if they have to."

"But something happened anyway, didn't it?"

Joe stood, moving to the aquarium. As he had last time he squatted next to the tank, watching the colorful fish swimming about. His eyes were drawn to the small fish that was once more swimming alone. "It wasn't Frank's fault, he couldn't help needing the restroom."

Diane made a small noise of acknowledgement but nothing more.

"A couple of boys came over to me. I think they had been following us."

"Did they say something that made you think that?"

Joe shrugged, "Just a feeling," he admitted. "They pulled me around the corner from the restroom and pushed me up against the wall. They were standing real close, too close," Joe's finger was shaking as he began to follow the small fish with it. "They knew," Joe whispered.

Diane watched her young patient carefully. This was important. "What did they know?" she asked, her own voice nearly a whisper lest she disturb the spell the fish seemed to cast on the boy.

"They were up against me, like him and they," Joe's head dropped against the glass of the tank. He blinked rapidly, desperate to keep the tears at bay. "They asked me if I liked what Red did. They wanted to know if he had…" he couldn't say, couldn't repeat the vile words they'd used. "They said they would take me somewhere private, that I could show them a good time, like I did Red."

Diane stood, instinctively moving to comfort the young teen. Joe jerked the moment she moved; Diane retook her seat.

"Everybody says nobody knows," Joe confessed. "But they knew fishy."

Diane held her breath, waiting for the boy to complete his thought.

"I'm a freak fishy and those boys knew it. They knew that I liked what Red did," Joe softly confessed. He kept his head pressed against the glass, his eyes closed. He couldn't bear the look he knew would be on Dr. Saylor's face now that she knew his darkest secret. He hadn't told anybody, not even Alex.

Diane didn't know why Joe thought that but she was sure it wasn't true. "Joe, did you really, honestly like what Red did? Did you want him to continue?"

"I hated it but…"

"But what?" Diane quietly asked when the teen remained silent.

"But some part of me liked it or I wouldn't have…my body wouldn't have reacted like it did."

She understood now, she should have guessed. "You became aroused, probably when Red was licking the blood away?"

Joe nodded. He couldn't stop the tears that fell. She would tell his parents and they would tell Frank. They were going to hate him when they knew the truth. He shouldn't have told, hadn't meant to tell but the secret refused to stay inside any longer.

Diane didn't allow his flinch to stop her this time. With an economy of movement she was at the boy's side, kneeling beside him. "You are not a freak Joe and you didn't like it."

"But…"

"I know your body responded but that doesn't mean you wanted or liked what he was doing, I promise."

"How do you know?" Joe wanted to believe her. He had been so relieved when Alex came into the kitchen and stopped Red but whenever he remembered his body's reaction he doubted his own perception.

"The response your body had was only a physical response. It doesn't mean you enjoyed what was happening." Diane thought quickly, she needed an example, something a teenager could understand. "Have you ever had what they call brain freeze when eating ice cream?"

Joe nodded. He didn't know what that had to do with the topic of their conversation.

"Does that mean you don't like ice cream?"

"No."

"Yet your head hurts if you eat ice cream too quickly. That is a physiological response to a particular stimulus, the ice cream."

Joe thought about that. "So when my body reacted to…that, it didn't mean anything?"

"Exactly," Diane confidently replied. "The only thing it means is that your body responded in a natural way to a particular stimulus. What matters is how your mind responded and from everything you've told me your mind was resisting the assault."

"Yeah," Joe whispered. "But other people still think I wanted it. In school there will be other kids like those two and I won't know who is watching me, wanting to do things."

"There will also be teachers you can go to for help," Diane pointed out. "Your brother and friends will be there too, you can trust them can't you?"

"My brother and friends, yeah," Joe's finger still traced the movement of the small fish.

"But not the teachers?" Diane felt a pang of sadness for the child.

Joe shrugged, "I won't know them." He was beginning high school this year meaning new teachers of course.

"That's true," Diane conceded. "You know schools are very careful nowadays, they do extensive background checks on anybody that works in a school."

"They could miss somebody," Joe stubbornly countered.

"They could," she honestly responded. Lying to a patient was the surest way to lose their trust. "But as we've discussed before you can't spend your life hiding away in a dark bedroom. I have made some arrangements with the school that I hope will make things easier for you."

"What kind of arrangements?"

Diane told him, outlining everything that had been put in place to help him. The plans had only been finalized a couple of days earlier. He would have a refuge in the form of a small office near the nurse's station. This would allow him the privacy he might need if he felt a panic attack coming on while placing him near medical help should it be needed. His teachers would be told that if he asked to leave the classroom they were to allow it without questioning him. Finally he would be allowed to carry a cell phone with him at all times, as long as it was kept on vibrate. His brother too would be allowed a cell phone so that Joe could call him if he felt the need.

Joe smiled softly at that last bit. All of it sounded good but knowing he could call for help no matter where he was in the school made the prospect a little less scary. "Thank you," he quietly said his voice thick with emotion.

"You're welcome Joe," Diane squeezed his shoulder. Standing up she moved to her desk and picked up a card. "Our time is done for today but before you leave I want you to take one of my cards," she had meant to give him one before but somehow he was always gone before she remembered. "If you have any trouble, no matter how small it might seem, you call me."

"But what if it's late?" Joe took the card, slipping it into his pocket.

"No matter what time it is Joe," Diane firmly replied. She wanted him to know that help was only a phone call away and that time or reason didn't matter. "I want you to make an appointment for next week."

"I will." He looked up at her, "Homework?"

Diane smiled. "I think just going to school and getting through the week will be more than enough, don't you?"

Joe nodded shakily. He wasn't even sure he could do that much.

Hardy home

11:00 p.m.

"_In our top story tonight, police have no leads in the brutal murder of two teen boys. The boys were last seen leaving Bayport Mall on Wednesday evening. Their parents reported them missing when they failed to return to their respective homes. An immediate search was launched, ending with the discovery of the boys' bodies in a waterfront warehouse. _

_Mark Miller and Roy Davidson were found bludgeoned to death by a night watchman during his normal rounds. Police do not know why the boys were in the warehouse. Were they engaged in illegal activity or were they lured or taken there by the person or persons who murdered them? Police at this time are baffled. A reward has been offered for any information leading to an arrest in this heinous crime."_

With a sick feeling Laura clicked the off button. She was thankful the boys had already gone to their rooms for the night. She hadn't recognized the names and could only hope that neither of her sons knew them. Perhaps it was callous but her family, especially her boys, had suffered enough this summer they didn't deserve more.

TBC...

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	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Frank and Joe arrived at school early that first day. Both had already received their schedules and Joe had learned the layout of the building during freshman orientation at the end of his eighth grade year. The reason for their early arrival was to give Joe a chance to see where the office meant for his refuge was located. This was followed by a short meeting with Principal Wemette and the Guidance Counselor Mr. Lewis.

"Frank, Joe, come on in," Principal Wemette invited. Introductions were made and the two boys sat in a pair of chairs facing the desk. To Joe's left sat Mr. Lewis.

"Joe I asked for this meeting, I'm sure you're wondering why." Lewis opened the conversation.

"Yes sir," Joe mumbled. He wondered if they were going to tell him that the arrangements Dr. Saylor had made couldn't happen after all.

"To begin with you should know that Dr. Saylor didn't divulge any information aside from what we need to know. I refer of course to your panic attacks. Anything else that any member of staff, myself included, knows comes from news reports alone."

"Okay." Joe appreciated the reassurance but he hadn't thought Dr. Saylor had told them anything.

"The reason I asked to meet you is to let you know that my office door is always open should you ever need to talk. I realize I am likely a poor substitute for Dr. Saylor but I felt you should be made aware of another resource available to you, if you need it." Paul Lewis hadn't been a Guidance Counselor for long; this was in fact only his third year working at Bayport High. Never before had he been called upon to help a student with such devastating experiences and it was likely he was almost as nervous as the young teen before him.

Joe nodded. "Is that all?" He blushed. "Sorry, I just, um, we don't want to be late to homeroom," he stammered an explanation.

Frank reached across the space separating them, giving his brother's forearm a gentle squeeze. A small smile aimed his way told him the gesture had been appreciated. He only wished there was more he could do to help his brother.

"That's fine Joe, you boys can run along now," Mr. Wemette smiled reassuringly.

The teens quickly made their way from the office and down the hall towards their lockers. "You gonna be okay Joe?" Frank wasn't sure he should ask, would it make his brother even more nervous? But neither did he feel like he could just let Joe head off to class without asking.

Joe shrugged; he wasn't sure what response to give.

"You'll call me if you need me?"

Joe nodded. "I'll be okay," he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

"Of course you will," Frank smiled. He reached his locker and glanced at his brother's schedule. He was relieved to see Joe's locker was only a few down from his own. He wondered if his therapist had arranged that. Whether she had or not it was a good thing as it would guarantee the older brother the chance to check up on the younger throughout the day. "Your's is just there," he pointed.

"Thanks." Joe checked the combination and managed to open the locker on the second try. Sliding half his notebooks onto the shelf he closed the locker and turned to see Frank doing the same. "Homeroom?" Freshman orientation had been months ago and what was the point of having an older brother if he couldn't get help from him.

After glancing at Joe's schedule again Frank gave him directions to his homeroom. He only wished his own was in the same direction but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Reluctantly he watched his brother make his way down the hall before finally turning away. "Please let him be okay," he whispered as he turned away.

Nervously Joe walked into the classroom. A call from the back of the room brought his attention to Biff Hooper. Wearing a relieved smile he moved to the back of the room, sliding into the corner seat Biff had saved for him. He felt an immediate sense of safety being in this back corner, Biff beside him and Chet Morton, he now noticed, in the seat directly in front of him. Here nobody could sneak up from behind and he knew his friends, in spite of the tension between them, would never let anybody who intended harm to get near him.

"So what's your schedule Joe?" Biff asked.

Joe looked down and after a moment he quickly relayed the information to his friends. The other two boys glanced over their own schedules, comparing them to Joe's. To his disappointment he shared only two classes with Biff and one with Chet; he would have to face the rest of his day without the comfort of their dependable presences. Focused on his schedule he didn't notice the concerned glance shared between the other boys.

The first two classes went okay, Biff was in one and Chet in the other so Joe didn't feel so alone and exposed. Third period brought gym class and a horror Joe hadn't considered. Walking into the locker room he headed for the farthest corner, the one nearest to the teacher's office though he hadn't realized that when choosing it. He had been thinking only of the relative privacy it would provide for changing into his gym clothes.

Staring at the locker Joe wasn't sure what to do. If he changed with his back to the room it would leave him vulnerable to attack, not to mention everybody would be able to see his scars. But if he faced the room they might think he was trying to check them out or something. Compromising he turned so that he was partially facing the room but not enough that the other boys would get the wrong idea, he hoped.

His hands shaking he began to undress.

"Hey Hardy it true you like old guys?" a voice whispered near him.

Joe jumped, his eyes wide with fear, but the only boys near him were pointedly ignoring him. Blinking his eyes rapidly, Joe just managed to keep the threatening tears at bay. Forcing himself to ignore the others he resumed his task.

"Bet we could have fun," a different voice spoke in low tones.

Joe jerked away, hitting the back of his head on the locker. "Leave me alone," he hissed.

The boys standing nearby flashed their best innocent looks but Joe saw the satisfaction lingering in their eyes. "You okay Hardy?" one asked.

Joe nodded; the last thing he wanted was to provide them with any more satisfaction.

"Better get changed," another suggested. Closing their own lockers the trio left the locker room.

Looking around, Joe suddenly realized he was alone in the room. As quickly as possible he changed into his gym clothes and left the room. It was a good thing the teachers had all been told something about his needs or Joe was sure he would have been yelled at by the P.E. teacher. The man only gave him a sympathetic smile and motioned him to join the class in calisthenics. Gratefully Joe joined the lines of students and following their lead began exercising.

When class ended Joe was faced with another problem he hadn't considered. Sweaty and smelling every boy in the class was ordered to the showers. The showers, where he would have to remove all of his clothes and even with a towel wrapped around him he would be vulnerable to the stares of the other boys, among other things.

"Mr. Hardy could you come into my office please."

The sound of the teacher's voice caught Joe off-guard; he jerked in surprise. "Yes sir." Uncertainly he followed Mr. Flishing into the small office at the back of the locker room.

"Are you alright son?" Jeremy Flishing asked.

Joe nodded.

Jeremy frowned, clearly unconvinced. "I only know what I read in the papers and the instructions all of the teachers received concerning you but I'm thinking you'd rather not shower with the rest of the boys?"

"How'd you…I mean…" Joe looked down at his shoes, embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"I didn't know but it makes sense. I know I wouldn't want to be around other men, naked and vulnerable, if I'd been through what you had."

"But I can't go to my next class like this," Joe pointed out.

"No you can't," Jeremy agreed. "I thought maybe you'd like to use my private shower." Blue eyes looked at him, wide with fear. "That was stupid of me," Jeremy apologized. "I didn't mean to worry you Joe; I wouldn't be with you of course and the door locks."

"Is that allowed?"

"It is if I say it is," Jeremy firmly answered.

"But what about you?"

"I don't usually bother with a shower until after my last class of the day. Well unless I work up an unusual amount of sweat anyway."

"Thank you," Joe smiled gratefully. He hadn't been looking forward to the shared showers.

"The shower is through that door," Jeremy pointed. "I'll be doing some paperwork, unless you'd be more comfortable with the office empty too…"

Joe shook his head. He probably would but he couldn't ask the man to give up his office just so he'd feel a little better. It wasn't like Mr. Flishing would be in the shower with him and he could lock the door. "That's okay. Thanks Mr. Flishing."

"Jeremy," came the quiet correction.

"Huh?"

"I never have liked my last name and if you're going to be using my shower I think you can call me Jeremy, at least in here."

"Oh, okay." Joe left the office long enough to gather his shower things and a change of clothes before walking back through Jeremy's office to the private shower.

"Look at Hardy," one boy nudged another, "guess now we know why Flishing didn't say anything about him being late out of the locker room." This witty remark brought a round of laughter from those boys who heard it.

Dr. Saylor's office: Friday afternoon

"How did the first week of school go?" Diane asked. Unknown to Joe she had already received reports from the school.

"Not very good," Joe admitted.

"What happened?" she quietly asked.

Joe shrugged.

"Joe? We both know you're aware of what happened."

As he'd done before Joe moved to the fish tank, squatting down to follow the paths of the swimming residents with his finger. "I ended up leaving class at least twice every day. I even had to call Frank a couple of times to come to my refuge," Joe admitted. "I hate making him leave class but I needed him."

"Do you think he minds?"

"No, but school is important to him. I shouldn't call him out of class just because I need somebody to hold my hand." Joe scowled, tapping the glass and scaring the smallest fish, the one who habitually swam alone. "What are you doing over here? Gonna hide in the corner all your life?" he snarled at the small fish.

Diane hid her smile. It was obvious the teen identified with the small fish. That Joe was becoming angry with the creature could only mean he felt a similar anger towards himself. Anger could be useful in breaking the bindings of fear and depression.

"I'm sorry fishy. I know you can't help being scared. The world is big and there's lots of other fish that could hurt you if they want to, and some of them want to."

Diane frowned. "Did somebody hurt you this week Joe?"

Joe shook his head. Sure some kids had given him funny looks and some had said things but nobody had hurt him. "Jeremy helped a lot."

"Jeremy?"

"Sorry, Mr. Flishing," Joe corrected. "He's my gym teacher. Frank said he's new this year too."

"I see, and how did Mr. Flishing help?"

"He let me use his shower," Joe innocently replied.

Diane jerked forward, damn! "Joe, tell me about using Mr. Flishing's shower," she asked, forcing her voice to a calmness she didn't feel.

"I didn't think about how hard gym class would be," Joe admitted. "Changing in front of the other boys was hard enough but the thought of showering with them," the teen shuddered. "I knew I couldn't face that, especially after they…"

"After they?"

"Some of them said things, that first day, every day really," Joe admitted.

"What sort of things?" Diane carefully asked.

"It doesn't matter," Joe shrugged, though clearly it did. "After class the first day Mr. Flishing called me into his office and we talked for a few minutes. He said he thought I might not like showering with the other boys and could use his private shower if I wanted. I was scared at first," the blond admitted. "I thought maybe he was like Red, but then he told me the door could be locked and he even offered to go somewhere else to do his paperwork if I wanted him to." Joe had been amazed and touched by the offer, the emotions coming through in his voice as clearly as if he'd spoken them.

Diane made a note to have this gym teacher checked out. Hopefully he was only trying to be considerate of Joe's issues but in this day and age it paid to be careful. The last thing any child, especially one who had already suffered, needed was a teacher taking advantage of them. "That was very kind of him," she offered noncommittally.

Joe nodded. "It was," he smiled. "But that's just one class."

"It is."

"The ones with Biff or Chet , they're my friends, in them were okay. It was the other classes that I had the panic attacks in. I tried not to leave, but the longer I stayed the more I could feel them looking at me, whispering behind their hands and I had to get away."

"Did the refuge help?" She wanted to assure him that they probably weren't talking about him but they were teens and might be. More importantly at this juncture, Joe wouldn't believe her assurances even if she could offer proof.

"It did. I just wish I didn't need it," Joe rested his forehead against the glass side of the fish tank. "It will get better won't it?"

"It will," Diane promised. "But it's going to take time and determination from you."

TBC...

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	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Joe dropped his books on top of his desk and slid into the chair with a tired sigh. Being in school was harder than he would have ever expected and he had expected it to be pretty difficult. He just couldn't get rid of the feeling of being watched and judged by the other kids. The jerks in his gym class were the most obvious about it but he was sure there were a lot of students thinking the same stuff.

One good thing had come from the beginning of the school year, which was that his relationships with his friends had become much less strained. They still didn't really understand how Joe felt, but he was starting to accept the fact they were trying. It made him feel a little less alone.

Joe glanced at his stack of books. The teachers had been great, not one of them had become irritated whenever he had to leave class. Too bad that understanding didn't extend to homework, he thought ruefully. With another sigh he turned his computer on, he needed to find a news item for current events day in history class tomorrow. Mrs. Angeline had told them during the first week of class they would conduct a class on current events each Friday, though three weeks into the school year this would be the first current events day. Mrs. Angeline had wanted to, she said; give them a chance to settle into the routine of school.

Joe liked the idea of discussing current events in small groups. He liked history well enough but with plans to become a detective he was more interested in current events than those far in the past. He wasn't too sure he could handle the group discussions; hopefully he and Chet would end up in the same group that would help.

His instant messenger program dinged, startling Joe from his thoughts. Clicking the icon he opened the messenger tab.

**Hello Joe, you will know me as Minder. Alex told me about you and not seeing you in the forum I frequent I decided to take the initiative in speaking to you. I hope you don't mind overmuch.**

Joe stared at the message. He'd completely forgotten about the person Alex had suggested he talk to. Should he respond? Alex had said the man was a lot like him, but Joe wasn't sure about talking to a complete stranger as he had done with Alex. Yeah the older man had hurt him, his back would probably be scarred for the rest of his life, but he had also saved him, more than once. It was that which had given Joe a connection with him, allowing him to talk over his problems with somebody who truly understood. And Dr. Saylor was helping him, did he really need to talk to somebody else, somebody he didn't know? But Alex had suggested Minder, it almost felt like a betrayal of the older man to not give Minder a chance. Decision made Joe began to type.

_Hello Minder. I'm sorry but I had forgotten about the forum. _

**That is quite alright Joe. Does this mean you are feeling better?**

_Some, I guess. I have a new therapist; she's a lot better than the other one. I feel like she really wants to help, I never felt like that with the other guy._

**That's wonderful news! So you're able to tell her everything?**

_Maybe not everything but a lot._

**Is there anything you need to talk about?**

_Not really. _

**Joe, talk to me.**

_Alex was right, you are a lot like him. It's just that there are some boys in my gym class that are always saying things to me._

**Things?**

_I don't really want to talk about it._

**Of course, you've only just met me. I should have realized you wouldn't be ready to divulge any problems you might be having yet. Only know that I am here anytime you need to talk, rant, cry, question, whatever you need I will do my best to live up to Alex's expectations in helping you.**

_Thank you. I need to go now though, homework._

**Yes schoolwork is important. I will allow you to get to it. Good-bye**

_Good-bye._

Turning off the instant messenger Joe leaned back in the chair, staring blankly at the computer screen. Five minutes later when Frank entered the room he was in the same position.

"Joe," Frank called. The lack of response brought a frown to his face. "Joe, you okay?" he gave his brother's shoulder a little shake.

Startled Joe jerk badly, nearly tumbling from his chair. "What are you sneaking up on me for?" he sullenly demanded.

"Sneaking up on you? I called your name twice little brother."

Joe glanced up at his brother, "You did?"

"I did," Frank confirmed. "Something happen?" He noticed the instant messenger was turned off, Joe never turned it off. Had somebody sent him a nasty message? They better not have or Frank would make sure they learned not to harass his brother.

Joe considered, for about three seconds, telling Frank about Minder. He quickly realized that would be a disaster of a conversation. He shook his head. "Just stopped to think and forgot to start again," he joked.

Frank groaned, "That joke's older than you little brother."

"And?"

Frank smirked. "And you need new material." Leaning against the wall he studied his younger brother carefully. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine Frank, just thinking about my homework."

"You thinking about homework? You must be getting sick," Frank teased.

"Oh ha, ha," Joe rolled his eyes. "Speaking of needing new material," he sniped, tossing an eraser Frank's way.

Frank easily dodged the missile. "And on that note I'll leave you to work."

* * *

><p>"How's the boy doing?"<p>

Jeremy shrugged. He really shouldn't be discussing his students with anybody, he knew that. But he needed an outlet for his concerns and frustrations. "Okay I guess." He sighed deeply, "I just feel so bad for the kid. I mean I only know what I read in the papers but it isn't hard to figure out what kind of hell the boy, the whole family for that matter, was put through." He glanced over at Kevin, his neighbor and friend, to see him nodding his agreement.

"But you're helping him?"

"I like to think so. I'm pretty sure being allowed to use my shower helps but…"

"But?" Kevin asked.

Jeremy hadn't known Kevin long, having only lived in Bayport for a couple of months himself. Kevin had only moved in a few weeks ago but they had clicked almost instantly. Both men had been horrified by the reports they read about the Hardy family. "I think it may have made things worse for him with the other boys," he hesitantly told his friend. The man would get a look so intense whenever Jeremy mentioned the other boy's harassment of Joe Hardy that it was frightening. He wondered if maybe Kevin had suffered something similar. He could only pray he hadn't, friend or not it just wasn't something he could easily ask about. _'The Mets are a great team, by the way were you ever assaulted_ _when you were a boy?'_ Jeremy could imagine how well that would go.

Kevin scowled at nothing in particular. "Let me guess, they're suggesting something inappropriate is going on between you and your student?"

Jeremy was startled by the near growl underlying the question. "I think so. They're careful not to let me hear but I've caught a few looks aimed his way and the occasional word or two that make me think they are. But I can't take the offer back now; the boy isn't ready to shower with his classmates."

"No, you're right about that. Maybe you should report the boys to the principal," Kevin carefully suggested.

Jeremy shook his head. "I've thought about that but I can't prove anything and I doubt Joe would talk. I'm afraid that if I went to Principal Wemette it would only make things worse for him in the long run."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Jeremy stared dejectedly at his coffee cup. "Yeah, especially since the boys who seem to be doing the most harassing are also jocks whose parents are either on the school board or involved in local government. No principal wanting to keep their job would go after kids like that without rock solid proof."

"I'm afraid you're right." Kevin glanced at his watch. "Hey I hate to leave you feeling this way but I've kind of got a date."

Jeremy grinned, "I'll be okay man. Go on, have a good time."

"You sure? I can cancel," Kevin half-heartedly offered.

Jeremy laughed. "You're a good friend Kev, but no man should have to give up a date for anything less than a life threatening emergency."

Kevin grinned. "Thanks, I'll be around tomorrow if you need to talk."

* * *

><p>Joe sat in Mrs. Angeline's History class, nervously fiddling with the news article he had printed out last night. Moving down the rows of students Mrs. Angeline was asking each student to give a brief outline of the article they had chosen. She had explained that after this they would decide which articles to talk about and break up into small groups. She would move around the room to help them with their discussions. She had made it very clear that she expected them to give an opinion on the article their group was assigned and defend that opinion.<p>

Joe was only half listening as the other students, one by one, told the class about the article they'd chosen. He vaguely heard Mrs. Angeline calling on one of the boys who continually harassed him in gym class.

"I found an article that I thought would be real good for current events. It's something that is relevant to everybody but especially kids."

Mrs. Angeline frowned as she watched Bradley Cooper sliding what he must have thought were sly glances towards Joe Hardy. She had a bad feeling about this article and had just moved towards Bradley to look at the article when he continued.

"My article is about sexual assault and how the victim can do things that cause it," Bradley smirked triumphantly.

Joe paled dramatically and jumped to his feet to run from the room, leaving his books behind in his hurry to escape the stares of his classmates. Panicked beyond reason he bypassed his little refuge in favor of the parking lot where sat his brother's car. Climbing inside he locked the doors and curled up on the back seat, oblivious to the vibrating of his phone.

Mrs. Angeline glared at the Cooper boy. "Chet call Frank Hardy, tell him what's happened please." She spoke without taking her eyes off Bradley. She felt a bit of satisfaction as the bullying brat paled under her glare. Vaguely she was aware of Chet speaking quietly in the background of the too quiet room.

"Chet you are in charge of the class while I'm gone," she said as he closed his phone. "Mr. Cooper you and I have an appointment with Principal Wemette." Grabbing him by the arm she frog marched him from the room.

Frank had raced from his class to the room set aside for Joe only to find it empty. Trembling with rage he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed his brother's number. The phone rang several times before going to voice mail, ratcheting the older brother's worry up another notch. "Where are you Joe?" he whispered as he tried once more to reach his little brother.

TBC...

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	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Fenton jerked his car to a stop as close to the door of the high school as he could manage. Climbing from the vehicle he didn't notice the awkward angle it had landed at, his only concern for his son. He still didn't know the details only that something had happened in class causing Joe to leave the room and now nobody could find him.

Grabbing the door handle at the entrance Fenton threw it open, heedless of the barrier slamming against the wall. Storming into the building he collided with another body. Instinctively he reached for the other person, preventing a fall. "Frank? Have you found Joe yet?" Fenton shook his head. "Never mind, stupid question." If his eldest had found his brother the blond would be with him.

"We've looked everywhere Dad, he isn't here," Frank's frustration was nearly tangible.

"We?"

"Chet, Biff, Tony, some of the teachers too I think," Frank ran his fingers through his hair. He had tried to put himself in his brother's shoes but his mind recoiled from the task. To put himself in Joe's head would mean imagining the horror his brother had lived through and what it meant for him. As much as he wanted to help Joe he just couldn't imagine what his brother felt, though whether it was inability or fear that held him back he couldn't say.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Yeah," Frank growled as he remembered the conversation with Chet the other boy's quiet voice sounding loud in his ear as he related the events of Joe's History class. Quickly he filled his father in on what had happened.

"You're sure he isn't in the school?"

Frank shrugged, "As sure as I can be. I can't think of anyplace else to look inside the building. We even looked in places students aren't allowed but there isn't any sign of him."

"Have you checked outside?"

Frank chuckled mirthlessly, "That's actually where I was headed."

Fenton nodded, he should have guessed. "Alright you start with that while I check in with the principal. Call my cell if you find him."

"I will," Frank promised. At the door he stopped, "Dad, you don't think Joe would do anything…" Frank trailed off, afraid to finish the sentence as if saying it would make it happen.

Fenton quickly closed the short distance between them, grabbing Frank firmly by the shoulders. "There is no way your brother would deliberately hurt himself," he very nearly growled.

"Yes sir," came the timid reply.

Fenton sighed, "I'm sorry son, I shouldn't take my stress out on you. "

"It's okay Dad," if anybody understood it was Frank. "You are sure?"

A sad smile crossing his face, Fenton nodded. "I'm sure Frank. Joe is upset, rightly so but he won't hurt himself, not purposely. But we still need to find him before…"

"Before he has an accident," Frank completed the thought. "See you outside." Turning away he hurried out the door to begin searching the grounds. It seemed too big a job, even with help from his friends and some of the staff. There was such a large area to cover, if Joe was even still on the grounds. How could they hope to find him?

"Alright Hardy, if you were Joe where would you go?" Frank chewed on his bottom lip as his eyes scanned the surrounding area, searching for something that would tell him where to start. He's upset, Frank knew that and probably scared, he'd want somewhere safe. So why hadn't he gone to the office set aside for him? Because…it wasn't safe enough? No, it was next to the nurse's office and only two doors down from the main office, the only place inside the school that would be safer would be Principal Wemette's office itself. It wasn't safety Joe was after, Frank was sure he was right.

Poor Joe, he thought, he's dealing with so much right now. A new school and new teachers was stressful enough but his little brother had the added trauma of that day in June to deal with. Any freshman could expect teasing; but Joe was being subjected to a variety of teasing that was outside the realm of anything he had ever dealt with before. So many things for Joe to deal with…that was it, Frank snapped his fingers. Joe was looking for familiarity, it was the only thing that could make him feel safe today; the little office simply wasn't enough. But would Joe have tried to make it home on his own? Frank shook his head. There wasn't any way his brother was ready to make it all the way home by himself, he could barely handle being outside with company, the long walk home alone was out of the question.

So if he wouldn't go home but he was seeking familiarity, where would he go? Think Hardy, you know Joe better than anybody. "But I don't know this new Joe," he whispered. No, he couldn't think like that, not right now. He had to focus on finding his little brother. Absently he noted his father's car parked haphazardly and like the proverbial light bulb clicking on he realized where Joe was. As quickly as he could Frank ran towards his car, fishing the keys from his pocket as he ran. If little brother was feeling threatened he had probably locked the doors.

Sliding to a stop he glanced through the window a relieved sigh escaping soundlessly from his lips. There, curled up on the back seat of Frank's car lay his younger brother, eyes closed in sleep. Trying the door he was unsurprised to find it locked. It was the work of seconds to unlock and open the door. Kneeling on the seat, he faced the back, watching Joe as he slept; the tear tracks on his face telling their own story. "Aw Joe, I wish I could make this all go away for you," he whispered. His phone vibrating in his pocket drew his attention.

Glancing at the caller id a moment of guilt washed over him. "Hey Dad…yeah I found him, we're in my car." Frank listened, "Actually he's asleep right now. "

Fenton frowned. "Why don't you boys go on home, I'll let the school know what's happening and get your assignments?"

"Are you sure Dad?"

"It's Friday and if Joe's asleep at this early, I'm guessing today took a lot out of him."

Frank nodded, though his father couldn't see it. "If the tears on his face are anything to go by then yeah," he quietly agreed. Frank winced; he probably shouldn't have said that.

Fenton drew a shaky hand through his hair. He wasn't surprised but no parent liked to hear of their child suffering needlessly. If Principal Wemette hadn't punished the brat who had upset Joe the man wouldn't like what Fenton had to say about it. "Take your brother home son, I'll be there in a little while."

"See you at home. Oh and Dad?"

"Yes Frank?"

"You can't actually kill Bradley Cooper, the law frowns on that."

Fenton chuckled dryly, "I'll remember that son." Closing his phone he slipped it in his pocket and headed back into the school. On the way he called Chet Morton, informing him that Joe had been found and was safe. He asked the boy to pass the word to the other searchers. Reaching the office Fenton didn't bother to knock. As he stepped into the room he automatically scanned the small space, noting the boy seated before Mr. Wemette's desk, a smug look on his face.

"Mr. Wemette, I'm Fenton Hardy," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Mr. Hardy," Principal Wemette greeted the well-known detective. "I'm sorry…."

Fenton interrupted the man before he could continue. "Joe has been found, he's safe."

Mark Wemette let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God."

"Can I go now?" Bradley interrupted. "I've got math."

"No Mr. Cooper you may not go," Mark Wemette coldly replied. "We're still waiting on your father to arrive."

"Don't know why you bothered the old man; he's not going to be happy."

"No he's not," a deep voice confirmed, bringing the attention of the room to the doorway.

"Hey Dad," Bradley smiled. "I told them they shouldn't call you."

Cooper senior raised an eyebrow, "Oh and why is that?" He had been told, at length, of his son's behavior towards the Hardy boy. Eric Cooper had himself been the victim of bullies in school the irony of having raised a bully didn't escape him.

"Well I didn't do anything wrong," Bradley responded as if the answer were obvious. "Mrs. Angeline said to bring an article from the paper, not my fault that Hardy got his panties in a bunch."

Eric closed his eyes, counting to ten, twenty, by the time he reached a hundred he felt calm enough to deal with his son. "I never thought I would see the day that I would be ashamed to call you my son."

Bradley's mouth fell open in shock. "Dad?" his voice seemed small, hurt; the sound of it echoing in the suddenly silent room.

"Did you really think nobody would notice your continual harassment of the boy? I have an idea why I wasn't told anything before today but that isn't the important thing." Eric turned to the other man standing in the room, easily recognizing him from the papers. "Mr. Hardy I can't apologize enough for my son's behavior. I can assure you that steps will be taken to ensure he understands the error of his ways."

"I appreciate that Mr. Cooper," Fenton said, taking the offered hand.

"I hope your son is alright?"

Fenton nodded, "He was upset of course but he'll be fine." He didn't think it would do any harm to admit that much, the Cooper boy already knew he had upset Joe after all.

Cooper nodded. "Mr. Wemette can I assume that Bradley's behavior was allowed to continue because the staff was afraid of upsetting me?"

Mark blushed, unable to deny the accusation.

The reddening of the man's face was answer enough for Eric. "I don't blame you entirely for that assumption. We both know many school board members would use their position to protect their children from rightful punishment." He turned to glare at his son, satisfied when the boy shrank down in his chair. "Unfortunately for Bradley I'm not one of them. I assume he will be suspended?"

"Yes sir, three days of in school suspension beginning Monday and a mandatory sensitivity class. He will of course be going home for the rest of today."

"Agreed, and if he steps out of line again I expect to be notified immediately," Eric grimly informed Wemette.

"You have my word Mr. Cooper," Mark readily agreed. Truthfully he found the man's attitude a welcome change from the behavior he had been expecting.

Eric turned to his son. "Let's get your things Bradley." As the boy joined him, Eric threw his arm across the boy's shoulders. "By the way son, you're grounded for the next two weeks, you will write a letter of apology to Joe Hardy, which I will read first."

"Dad that's not fair," Bradley whined.

"No son; what happened to that boy wasn't fair; you earned your punishment. Continue behaving as a bully and you won't have to worry about the coach benching you I will pull you from the team myself." Eric knew how much Bradley loved football and he hoped the threat would keep him in line if nothing else did.

Fenton watched them go. Hopefully Mr. Cooper's methods would bring the results they all wanted. He wasn't naïve enough to think it would save Joe from being bullied by others, but even one less bully would help his youngest as he dealt with the aftermath of that horrible day.

TBC...

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	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Frank shut the car door as quietly as he could and slid across the seat to settle behind the wheel. He was surprised when the sound of the engine starting didn't wake Joe. Poor kid, he must be exhausted. Leaving the radio off he drove home.

Jerking awake, Joe sat up, "What?" He must have been dead to the world to not realize the car was moving. It was, in fact, the car coming to a stop that had woke him.

"Hey little brother," Frank forced a neutral look onto his face and turned in the seat. "Feel better?"

Joe shrugged and looked out the window. "Why are we home?"

"Dad thought it'd be best."

"Is he mad?"

"What do you think?"

Joe looked down, a blush staining his cheeks red. "I didn't think when I ran. I didn't mean to make trouble."

Frank's jaw dropped. "Joe nobody is mad at you." He couldn't believe that Joe thought they'd be mad at him.

"But Dr. Saylor made all of those arrangements and I left the school without permission. Probably had you and Dad worried, why wouldn't you be mad about that?"

"I won't say we weren't worried Joe, that'd be a lie and you'd see right through it anyway." Frank felt a bit of relief when Joe chuckled softly. "But the only person we're mad at right now is Brad Cooper. He had no right to pull a stunt like that!"

A wave of warmth filled Joe at the fierce protectiveness in his brother's voice. "I guess not."

"You…" Frank was incredulous. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "What do you mean you guess not?"

"Mrs. Angeline did say to bring in news articles."

"Well Mrs. Angeline thought he was in the wrong."

Joe looked up. "She did?"

"She must have. Chet said she frog marched him to the principal's office."

"Bet that looked funny," Joe grinned, imagining tiny Mrs. Angeline marching a big guy like Brad to the office.

"Bet it did," Frank responded with a grin of his own. "Besides the article didn't even say what he claimed." He suspected that had been the most upsetting part to Joe.

"It didn't? How do you know?"

"Chet called me to tell me what happened. Brad left the article on his desk and Chet picked it up while we were talking. It was about sexual assault victims but it didn't say they caused the attacks. It was about the misconceptions some people have about the causes of sexual assault. Brad just twisted it to upset you."

Joe snorted, "Worked."

"Not like you could have known." Frank glanced towards the house. "I think Mom is wondering what we're doing?"

"Huh?"

"Curtain moved." Frank looked closely at his brother, "You gonna be okay?"

Joe shrugged. "Feel pretty stupid."

"No reason to."

"You wouldn't have been fooled."

"The hell I wouldn't have," Frank snapped. The silence from the back seat was enough to tell him his words weren't believed. "How were you supposed to know he was lying about what the article said?"

"I should have known it was just another…." Joe broke off horrified at what he had nearly revealed. He hadn't told anybody except for Dr. Saylor about the taunts of the other boys. He wasn't sure why he hadn't told his family.

The muscles of Frank's jaw flexed as he worked to contain his temper. He wasn't happy with his brother for withholding things but his true anger was directed at Brad and the men who had begun the nightmare Joe was living through. "This isn't the first thing he's done, is it?"

Joe shook his head.

"What else has he done? Has he hurt you?" Frank demanded. He frowned when Joe flinched; apparently his temper wasn't as contained as he'd thought.

"They…he just says things." Joe prayed Frank wouldn't catch the slip, he should have known better.

"Who else?" Frank could feel his anger growing as his brother only kept his eyes firmly on the floor of the car, refusing to answer. "Who has been saying things and what have they been saying? Tell me Joe or I swear I'll start asking questions at school on Monday." The minute the words were out Frank knew he'd made a mistake.

"It's none of your business, stay out of it!" Scrambling to the other side of the car, Joe shoved the seat forward, and grabbed the door handle. Stumbling from the car he ran into the house and up the stairs before Frank had managed to make it to the front door.

"Frank what…" Laura tried to ask but her eldest breezed past her as quickly as her youngest had done. She hurried up the stairs, the sounds of yelling drawing her unerringly towards Joe's room.

Frank didn't bother knocking. "What do you mean it isn't my business? You're my brother, protecting you has always been my business!"

Joe threw a heated glare at his brother, "Yeah? Well maybe I don't want you to protect me." He turned away, "Not like you did such a good job of it," he mumbled quietly.

It wasn't quietly enough. Frank paled, an icy coldness bringing a chill in spite of the warm day. "What do you mean?"

Laura stood uncertainly in the hall, her hand on the wall next to Joe's open door. Should she intervene before something was said that couldn't be taken back or let the argument continue, let the boys work it out between themselves?

"Thought you were the smart one?" Joe snarled turning to face his brother.

"Tomlinson and Wyndham," Frank said. "Do you think I didn't want to do more to protect you Joe?"

"You didn't do anything?" the blond boy accused.

Frank recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "What was I supposed to do Joe? Fight them and give them another excuse to beat you? Maybe I should have tried to escape is that it?"

"You could have told them to stop."

Frank considered reminding his brother of the time he did ask Tomlinson not to hurt Joe again but he decided it didn't really count. After all, it had been his own actions that had caused Tomlinson to strike the younger boy it was only right that he ask the man to stop. He was sure that was how his brother would see it at any rate. "I wanted to, you don't know how badly Joe but I was afraid they…"

"What? Afraid they might decide to hurt you instead?" Joe yelled.

"No, God no Joe," Frank quickly denied. "If I could have taken your place I would have."

"Then why didn't you?"

Frank was stunned into silence. In the next instant Joe rushed towards him, braced for the strike of a fist he was surprised to feel his brother's arms wrap around him instead.

"I'm sorry Frank, I didn't mean that," Joe buried his face against Frank's neck. "I wouldn't wish that on anybody, especially you."

In the hall Laura quietly retreated down the stairs, confident that no blood would be shed today. She would keep one ear tuned to the upper floor though, just in case.

Frank pulled back just enough so Joe could see his face. "I wish they had hurt me. Watching them hurt you and knowing that I couldn't stop it was one of the worst things I've ever gone through. And that was nothing compared to what you had to endure, I know that," he quickly added. He didn't want Joe to think he was saying he'd suffered as much, Frank knew his brother had suffered more than any of them, was still suffering. "I wanted to scream at them to stop, to beg them to hurt me instead but I was terrified it would make everything worse for you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you that day little brother, please you have to believe that." Under normal circumstances Frank would have been mortified by the tears on his cheeks but today wasn't normal and the tears leaking from his brother's eyes somehow made his own seem okay.

"Is that why you threatened to investigate at school? Why you were…"

"Interrogating you?" Frank nodded. "I couldn't protect you in June and I don't have the words to tell you how much that hurt. But I can protect you now and I will."

"Even if I don't want you to?" Joe quietly asked.

"You are angry with me about that day in June?"

"No, not really, I just…I'm afraid Frank."

"What are you afraid of?" Frank cautiously asked. Silently he prayed the boys who had joined Brad in tormenting Joe had used nothing more than words to hurt his brother. He didn't need to know what they'd said to know that it had caused Joe pain.

"Everything," Joe mumbled, burying his face once more against his brother's neck. "I'm tired of being afraid Frank but I can't stop."

"Then why not let me help? Tell me who has been saying things and I'll make them stop."

Joe made a choking sound somewhere between laughter and sobbing. "Because I can't stop being afraid if I don't do it myself."

Frank tightened his hold. There was nothing else he could do, only be here for his brother giving him whatever support he needed. But if he ever found out who had been tormenting Joe…

TBC...

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	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

It had taken him some time to track the boys down; he couldn't exactly ask Jeremy for their names after all. Nor did he wish to punish the innocent, enough of that had occurred through the years. His interactions with Joey had made him realize that he had been wrong to hurt any of the children, the truly innocent. Worse he had allowed Red to visit horrors upon them no child should ever experience. Alex wasn't sure what he would have done if the police hadn't been waiting for them outside the Hardy's home. Would he have allowed Red to visit those same horrors on Joey or would he have said enough?

He watched the boys for several days, following them as closely as he dared, listening to their conversations. It didn't take long to determine which of the three had been the worst offender; Alex was watching him now. He knew the boy would separate from his friends soon and head home, alone now that one of his partners in crime had been grounded.

Alex had been surprised to discover that the Cooper boy's father had refused to ignore his son's behavior. He was actually considering allowing the boy to escape the fate planned for his friends, boys whose fathers had denied the possibility of their children being so cruel or dismissed it with the tired phrase boys will be boys. They seemed to believe that Joey should grow a thicker skin, one even going so far as to claim that maybe if the boy wasn't such a sissy he wouldn't have been targeted. It wasn't a coincidence that it was the son of that same man he followed now.

* * *

><p>"Chief I think we may have a problem," Con swept the warehouse his gaze taking in the crime scene in front of him.<p>

Collig sat up straight, his hand tightening on the phone he held. Con Riley didn't spook easy, from the tone of his voice he was spooked now. "What have you got?"

"You remember the two boys found during the summer?"

"Shit, are you telling me we've got more?" Ezra prayed the answer would be no. He had a feeling he was about to be disappointed.

"Teenage boy bludgeoned to death but this one is nude and…" Con swallowed the bile. When he had first seen the boy Con had been forced to run outside where he was promptly sick. No wonder the security guard who had first found the kid was hysterical when calling 911. Con had seen plenty of things in his years on the force. The violence and depravity one person could inflict on another would surprise most of the public. None of his previous experience had prepared him for the sight that met him inside the warehouse.

"And?" Collig prompted.

"There's a, I think it's a dildo, the thing is huge."

Ezra paled, "You're telling me the boy was sodomized?"

"Looks that way."

"So why do you think this is connected to the other two boys? Neither of them was sexually assaulted."

"I know Chief, but it's the same warehouse and I'm pretty sure this one was beaten to death too. The only thing that doesn't make sense, besides the sexual assault is that none of the boys look alike."

"Well let's hope you're wrong about them being connected. Have you called Forensics yet? Homicide?"

"Yes sir, I called them first thing. But if I'm right we may need to contact the FBI." Con winced, holding the phone away from his ear. Collig hated calling the Feds; they tended to run roughshod over the local force, treating them as if they didn't have two brain cells between them. The moment his Chief stopped cursing Con put the phone to his ear, "Sir?"

Ezra sighed, no matter how much he disliked the Feebies, catching the nut case killing children was more important. "You tell Forensics and the detectives to go over the scene with a fine tooth comb. If we do have a serial killer on our hands we can't afford any screw ups."

"I'll make sure they get the message Chief."

"Good man. I'll send some more officers down to help you keep the news vultures away from the scene."

Con nodded. "Probably a good idea, they'll probably show up soon. Forensics just pulled up Chief."

"Alright, keep me updated." Ezra scrubbed a hand over his face. If there was one thing he hated it was sickos that preyed on children. No matter how many years he lived, no matter the number of cases he dealt with or read about, Ezra didn't think he would ever understand the mindset of those who did such things. If he was honest he didn't want to understand the workings of their minds. As far as he was concerned every last one of them should be taken out back of the police station and shot like a rabid dog.

Unfortunately the shrinks and do-gooders kept insisting the sickness could be treated, that these men could be rehabilitated. They were fooling themselves; unfortunately it would be innocent children who paid the price for their mistake. Maybe they'd get lucky and this one would decide to shoot it out when they caught up with him. Ezra didn't allow himself to consider the possibility that they wouldn't catch the bastard.

Alex stood in the gathering crowd, watching the activity around the warehouse. Dressed as a dock worker and with a beard and mustache he would be impossible to recognize. It was unfortunate that he couldn't get close enough to hear everything that was being said but one couldn't have everything. Alex wondered what the boy's father would think when he heard his son begging for mercy. Would he think him a sissy? Perhaps he would be relieved to be rid of such a weak child. At the end Billy boy had been sobbing for his mother.

Alex stuck his hand in his pocket, running his fingers over the tape that contained Billy's last words. One day soon he would send it to Billy's father. The man should know how his son had faced death after all. Given the elder Dierksen's attitude towards Joey he suspected the man would be embarrassed to know his own son had proven to be weak and helpless. Yes, he would make a copy of the tape, edited of course, and send it to the father who had raised his son to be a bullying coward.

TBC...

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	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Diane watched Joe fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. Twenty minutes into the session he had yet to say a word beyond hello.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?"

Diane was startled by the question. She couldn't help wondering what had inspired it. "No, but I think the real question is do you think you're a bad person?"

Joe shrugged. He never used to question his morality but that was before. "I don't know," he finally admitted in a strained whisper.

"Something happened?" It wasn't really a question. Diane didn't know what but it was obvious something must have occurred. "Has the bullying become worse?"

"No, it's a little better. Brad Cooper wrote me a letter apologizing and he hasn't said anything since that day in History class but he still looks at me funny."

"Funny?"

"Like he wants to say something but then he never does. I think maybe he's just afraid of getting into trouble again."

"Ah, so you don't think he meant the apology?"

Joe shook his head. "If he did then why would he keep looking at me like he does?"

"Maybe he wants to apologize face to face but isn't sure how," Diane suggested. She had no way of knowing if this was the case but it was possible. Her main purpose in making the suggestion was to get Joe thinking of other, less negative, motives. "Is that why you think you're a bad person, because of what others are saying?"

For several minutes Joe didn't respond. He didn't know how to bring it up, how to tell Dr. Saylor his feelings without her hating him. Joe respected the doctor and he hated the thought of her seeing him as something to be despised. But she deserved an answer; taking a deep breath, bracing himself for the rejection he knew would be coming Joe plunged ahead.

"You heard about Billy Dierksen?"

Diane just barely controlled herself, hiding her reaction with difficulty. She had read the articles in the paper and knew it must have been a horrific death. "I read about it. Did you know him?"

Joe nodded. "He was one of the ones that were always saying things, especially in the locker room."

Diane thought she understood Joe's earlier question now. She needed to hear it from him; however, after all she didn't want to put words in his mouth or worse, thoughts into his head. "How did you feel about what happened to him?"

Joe viciously chewed his lower lip, the taste of blood bringing him back to himself. "I…I don't know what you want me to say."

"The truth," was the simple reply. "You can always tell me the truth Joe."

"I felt, feel, relieved."

"You wanted him dead?" She was sure he didn't but he needed to recognize the difference between a natural feeling of relief and wishing somebody dead.

"No! I never wanted any of them to die but he can't…I'll never have to hear his voice again, whispering nasty things, suggesting I do things…" Joe trailed off, breathing heavily as emotions swamped him. Shame, hatred, disgust, fear, relief, there were so many feelings, too many to separate into something manageable.

From the corner of his eye he saw Dr. Saylor come to her feet. Jumping up he backed away, he couldn't let her near him. She was a good person; he didn't want to contaminate her with his horribleness. She could never understand his feelings, would hate him for having them. Any decent person would. But he wasn't decent anymore; he hadn't been decent since that horrible day. Maybe he'd never been a decent person.

Diane stopped in her tracks. "And of course you're relieved that he won't be tormenting you any longer." She was reminded of the abused horses her uncle had often taken in; the wild fear had rolled off them in waves that could almost be felt. Joe's eyes held a similar look and her heart broke anew for the child before her. "Feeling relief at being rid of your tormentor doesn't make you a bad person Joe."

"No, a good person wouldn't feel the way I do."

"Do you think I'm a good person?"

Joe nodded.

"But when you told me that boy was one of those who have bullied and tormented you I was relieved for you."

"You were?"

"Of course I was and it is a normal feeling."

Joe wasn't sure he believed her. He wanted to but it wasn't right to feel relief at another person's death.

"Let me ask you a question Joe; if you could choose between Billy dying and simply being gone from your life which would you choose?"

Joe didn't even have to think to know his answer. "I'd want him gone."

"You see it now?" Diane could tell him what she believed but he would more readily accept it as truth if he came to it on his own.

Joe replayed the conversation, examining every statement as if he were looking for clues that would solve a case. "I'm not really relieved that he's dead just that he's gone from my life. But doesn't that make me a selfish person?"

Diane couldn't help the small smile. It was what most people would think, what society taught them to believe. "No Joe, it makes you human."

"What do you mean?"

"The world of a newborn baby is centered on its own needs. At first that is the only thing a baby is aware of, itself and its own need; as the baby grows so does its world, first to encompass family, parents and siblings. The mother, or primary caregiver, is usually the first person the baby becomes aware of outside itself. Later as the child grows so does its world, more people fill the child's world, becoming important to the him. Yet, no matter how old we grow our world still begins and ends with us."

"I don't understand. You're saying it's okay to be selfish?"

"No, I'm saying it's natural. Society teaches us to think of the needs of others but in a crisis we inevitably think of the effect on ourselves first, followed quickly by the effect on those closest to us and moving out to others, with strangers and society in general being the last ones we think of. Or in the case of another person dying, if it is somebody we know, we will inevitably think of the effect on ourselves first. Of course we usually shove that thought aside and focus, as society has taught us, on the effect that death had on others who were closer to the person. Do you understand now?"

"I think so."

"But you still think you shouldn't feel relief?"

Joe shrugged. "It just seems wrong."

"It's a feeling Joe and feelings are neither right nor wrong they simply are. You can't help the way you feel, nobody can. All you can do is accept the feelings for what they are, repressing them or beating yourself up for having them won't help anybody. In fact it may cause more harm in the long run."

"If you say so," Joe doubtfully replied.

"Okay then, how do you feel about the boy's death?"

"I feel awful," Joe answered without hesitation. "Nobody should have to die like that. He must have felt so scared and alone."

"A bad person wouldn't feel any compassion over the death of a person who had hurt them. They might even feel a certain amount of satisfaction that the person had suffered."

Joe stared at Diane. "I'm really not bad?"

"No Joe," Diane confirmed with a smile. Another crisis averted she thought, silently giving herself a pat on the back. Poor kid just couldn't catch a break. Only a couple of weeks ago he had made a turning point, not due to anything she had done, but due to the confrontation with his brother. And then another event shoves him back, undoing the progress he had made.

Joe smiled shyly. He had thought when he first heard about Billy that he was turning into the same kind of person Red had been. He had been so horrified by the feelings of relief that he hadn't taken the time to realize that he wasn't feeling any joy at Billy's suffering and death.

Diane took Joe's hand in her's, "Better?"

Joe nodded. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet, I haven't given you your homework yet," Diane teased.

Joe groaned with mock fear.

Diane went to her desk and opened one of the drawers. After a few minutes of rifling through the contents she found what she was looking for. "This cd has various scenarios on it," she explained as she handed the disc over, "I want you to listen to one scenario a day and write down your immediate thoughts and feelings. You're not to examine what you're feeling or thinking, just write down what first comes to mind along with your initial emotions. Now for this to work you have to truly immerse yourself in the scenarios, as much as you can. What we want are your honest reactions, understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"There is no right or wrong, just your reactions. We'll discuss it at your next appointment."

Joe nodded and left the room.

In seconds he had returned, surprising Diane with a quick hug. "Thank you," he whispered. Drawing away he quickly left the room but not before Diane saw the blush coloring his cheeks.

TBC...

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	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

David Sims, following Collig's orders, went over every piece of evidence they had collected with a fine tooth comb. Whoever had killed the three boys knew what he was doing, despite the blood splatter the only DNA they had managed to collect belonged to the kids themselves or those who had legitimate reason to be in the warehouse. He wouldn't rule out the possibility that the security guard or building owner were responsible for the deaths but that would be for the detectives to determine. He was certain each of the boys had been beaten to death with the same object; based on the tests they'd ran on the few slivers of wood they'd found it was mostly likely a baseball bat.

The last boy had been sodomized as well, David winced involuntarily when he thought of that, but the only traces found had been latex from the dildo and blood from the victim. He had been raped only with the sex toy, nothing else. That in itself was unusual as most sexual offenders wouldn't be satisfied with object rape alone, that was more likely to occur in the case of attacks on homosexuals. If they were all killed by the same person David knew the sexual assault on the most recent victim could mean an escalation, though he couldn't imagine how it could become worse. Pushing the thought aside he finished up his report, sending it up to the Chief.

A short time later Chief Collig was reading through the forensics report. It made for horrific reading material, surely not what he would choose as a bedtime story. "Damn," he cursed when he saw the lack of DNA evidence. He had really hoped this most recent victim would provide them with something more than the first two had done.

They had already ruled out the security guard and building owner, both had airtight alibis. During the first murders the building owner, James Lacey, had been at dinner with his wife, something verified by the hostess and waiter at the restaurant where they had dined. During the most recent murder, he had been attending a fundraiser for the Mayor's re-election campaign.

The security guard would have been more difficult to clear, had it not been for something the security company had done a year ago. According to the manager for Hayes Security there had been problems in the past with guards sneaking off for a drink or a meeting with a girlfriend during their shifts. This had resulted in some break-ins, nearly putting the company out of business as word spread. Desperate to avoid that eventuality the owner and manager had decided to put modern technology to work for them. Each property they were hired to protect would be fitted with a scanner, the security guards were issued new ids each with a barcode unique to that guard. As they made their rounds throughout their shifts they were required to scan their id at each pass, thus insuring they were where they were supposed to be. Clients had been reassured by this measure and business had improved drastically since implementation. More importantly for Wayne Davis, the guard in question, it proved he wasn't near the warehouse during the murders.

Collig still wasn't convinced they were dealing with a serial killer, but the common murder weapon certainly pointed to it. Of course baseball bats were easily purchased with one being pretty much like another so it was possible the use of a bat in each murder was only coincidence, but he doubted it. Ezra sighed heavily, looked like it was time to call in the Feds, damn but he hated to do it. "Oh well, no time like the present." Resigned to his fate he picked up the phone and dialed.

Three days later another boy was found, this time in a different warehouse, though it too belonged to James Lacey with Hayes providing security. The move to another building was easily explained by the police officers assigned to watch the original warehouse. Though they had been careful to keep out of sight, it was obvious the killer was very much aware of their presence.

The latest victim had been bludgeoned to death just as the others and like the one before him he was sodomized with a sex toy. More interesting was the fact that the boy, Zach Stellins, had been a good friend of Billy Dierksen. Was this the connection they'd been looking for? The first two victims had been friends, as had the last two. But why were the first two killed together while the more recent victims were killed separately? Was it because of the sexual assault?

At least now the FBI might listen to them. Collig had been shocked to discover that the Feebies didn't agree with him after the third murder. Rather than believe Bayport had a serial killer on the loose the Feds had all but laughed at the suspicion of Collig and his detectives. Once more he called the FBI, he could only hope this time they would listen. If they had a hope of catching this guy they would need more resources than those available to the Bayport police and the State Crime Lab.

A week passed, luckily there were no further victims, but the FBI wasn't any closer to finding the murderer than the Bayport P.D. had been. The first break came exactly two weeks after the murder of Billy Dierksen.

"I need to speak to Chief Collig," an out of breath and pale Mike Dierksen insisted to the desk sergeant.

"The chief's in a meeting and can't be disturbed. Maybe one of the detectives could help you?" Sergeant Lewis suggested. He recognized the man before him from the papers, but orders were orders.

"No! I'm not letting some underling handle this. I insist you let me talk to Chief Collig," he glanced at the name plate on the counter, "Sergeant Lewis. Or should I call the Mayor?"

There was no mistaking a threat like that. Unfortunately for Dierksen the sergeant was less than six months from retirement. If the mayor threatened his job the union rep could easily drag it out until his last scheduled day on the force. "Go right ahead Mr. Dierksen. Why don't you use my phone," he suggested pushing the device towards the man. "Dial 9 to get an outside line."

Ordinarily Mike would have done just that but this was too important to get into a pissing contest with some desk sergeant. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. It wasn't easy to do; not after listening to the tape he had received only a couple of hours ago. He had watched enough cop shows to know that he might have already destroyed any prints that were on the tape; the more he handled it the better chance of that happening. So rather than removing it from the machine he put the machine in his case, tossing in the envelope the tape had been delivered in for good measure. He had brought it straight to the station, once he had stopped shaking enough to safely drive, and he wasn't going to be put off.

"Sergeant Lewis I'm sorry for coming on so strong. It's just that, well I received this tape and I really think Collig needs to hear it."

One thick eyebrow raised, "Tape?"

"It," Mike's voice shook the memory of the tape too fresh, "my son is on it. He's, the tape has his last moments on it."

Lewis' mouth dropped open in shock as the man before him dropped his head, silent tears splashing on the countertop. "Shit, just a minute." Picking up the phone he called the chief's office. In less than a minute he was leading the distraught father to Collig.

TBC...

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	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

"Mr. Dierksen, Mike, are you sure you want to be here for this?" Ezra asked. He didn't know the exact contents of the tape but he could easily imagine. The man had obviously already listened to at least part of the recording; no parent should ever have to hear the sort of things that were probably on that tape.

Mike looked up; he nearly broke again at the compassion he saw shining from Collig's eyes. "I have to be. I have to know, Billy suffered through it and I couldn't be there for him then…"

"Hearing what your son went through won't help him now Mike. Why don't you let Sergeant Lewis get you some coffee while we listen to the tape," Ezra quietly suggested. When the Sergeant had first called him on the intercom Ezra cut his meeting short and ordered the distraught father brought to his office. While he waited he had contacted the FBI agent in charge of the case. He would, undoubtedly, want to hear the tape as well.

"The Chief is right Mr. Dierksen, you should go have some coffee."

Mike turned, glaring at the thirty something FBI agent. Jack Martin was a good agent, he supposed, but he didn't know him, didn't trust him to do right by his boy. "What would you know about it Agent Martin?"

Jack never even blinked. This wasn't the first time he'd been confronted with a grieving relative, nor would it be the last time. "I don't know what you're feeling Mr. Dierksen, I won't pretend I do. But do you really want the last time you hear your son's voice to be during what must have been a terrifying ordeal?"

Mike turned away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. He had only listened to the beginning of the tape, his son had sounded frightened but he had still sounded like himself. Billy's killer had said something then, the words whispered so quietly that Mike couldn't make them out. Billy had started crying then and Mike had stopped the tape. He knew it would only get worse after that and he couldn't face listening to it, not alone. "I should listen. I owe it to my boy."

Jack exchanged a glance with the chief; he really didn't want the victim's father listening to the tape. Though he hadn't said anything to Collig, he had an agent looking into Dierksen's background along with the fathers of the other victims. Nobody ever liked to think about it, but a parent could become a killer as easily as anybody else. If Dierksen was involved they didn't need to do anything that could compromise the case and if he wasn't involved he didn't need to bear witness to his son's last horrific hours. "If it were you on that tape and Billy sitting here, would you want him to listen?"

Mike sighed heavily; he knew the agent was right. He didn't like it but there it was. "Guess I'll go get some coffee."

Ezra said nothing, waiting until Mike's steps had receded, to thank Agent Martin.

Jack waved the thanks aside, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping his suspicions from the police chief. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he was only following procedure; he didn't personally think Dierksen had killed his own son or the other boys. "You ready to do this?"

"No," Ezra grimaced. "But putting it off won't make it any easier to listen to." He pushed the play button and sat back. It was worse than he had imagined.

"Please, I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" Billy Dierksen pleaded with his killer.

The boy's words were unintelligible through the pained sobbing. Ezra knew they must be nearing the end of the tape; the child had already endured a horrific beating. He had never heard anything as disgusting as the contents of this recording. How could anybody do that to a child? The boy had been as brave as he could at first, doing his best to bluff his way out of whatever the man was planning. It hadn't worked of course and what followed had been torturous to hear. Listening to the child pleading for his life Ezra was more grateful than ever that Agent Martin had convinced the father to leave the room. Ezra jumped as a pain-filled scream came from the machine.

"Please, stop, please let me go…noooooooo…stop…..please…." They listened in stunned silence as the boy was reducing to sobbing. The two experienced men knew this must have been when the child was being violated. The tape ended as the boy began to call for his mother, sounding very much younger than his age.

"Run that back a bit," Jack requested.

"What did you hear?"

"I'm not sure. There that should be enough." Jack listened carefully as the tape began to play again. Three times he had Ezra rewind the tape, his attention fully on the tape and whatever Billy was saying each time. "Did he say he wouldn't do it again?" he asked the chief.

Ezra nodded, "But what could he mean?"

"I don't know, it doesn't make any sense. Maybe he had scratched the man or kicked him?" he tentatively suggested.

"You don't believe that anymore than I do," Ezra scoffed. There had been nothing on the tape to indicate that Billy had done anything. Surely if he had scratched or kicked his killer the man would have reacted with a grunt or something.

Jack sat back, head resting on his hand as one long finger tapped his cheek. The words didn't make any sense but he was sure that was what the boy had said. So why would a child who was being systematically beaten to death promise not to do…something? "Damn it!"

Ezra nearly dropped his coffee cup, not that he was actually drinking it. "What?"

"The tape has been tampered with."

Ezra opened his mouth to tell the man not to be ridiculous when he realized he was right. "We never really heard the killer's voice, maybe we would have in that part."

"Maybe, but somehow I don't think that's it. He's trying to hide something that much is certain but I don't think it's just his voice he's hiding. Whatever it is, it's important." Jack hit the eject button and grabbed the tape, dropping it into an evidence envelope. "I'll get this to our tech department."

"You think they'll be able to find whatever's missing?" Ezra knew the FBI had better resources than his department but even they couldn't work miracles.

"If they can't nobody can." He stood up, "I'll let you know as soon as we find anything."

"Wait a minute, what about Mike Dierksen?"

Jack frowned, "I don't want him to know about the tampering. Just tell him our tech people are doing voice analysis on it."

Ezra glared at the retreating agent's back. With his final statements Jack Martin had inadvertently revealed his suspicion of Mr. Dierksen. Ezra would never pretend that Mike Dierksen was one of his favorite people. The man could be a pompous ass and his son had been following his good example, though being a teenager the behavior he emulated quickly turned to bullying, but Ezra didn't believe the man capable of killing his own son.

TBC...

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	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Jack leaned back in his chair, frowning as he read the reports put together by his agents. While all four boys had been beaten to death, only the last two had been sexually violated. The odd thing about that was the fact an object was used rather than the assailant physically sodomizing the boys himself. The tech guys were able to partially recover the erased sections of tape but it wasn't enough to tell what the killer had said. The only positive had been the confirmation that their killer was definitely male. Aside from location, age and method of death nothing seemed to tie the four boys together, on the surface at any rate.

When the techs had been unable to give them anything beyond the gender of the killer Jack had started looking deeper into the backgrounds of the four victims. Two months later he had a pretty clear picture of the victims. All four had been known for bullying, the first two often adding physical violence when they bullied. Jack had wondered if they were dealing with somebody who had been bullied at a younger age who was now seeking revenge by attacking teens who went after other, more vulnerable children. He probably would have continued pursuing that theory if not for one vital piece of information dug up by his agents. Before their deaths all four boys had been seen harassing one particular boy.

Reaching for his phone Jack dialed the necessary number. "Could I speak to the judge please? This is Agent Martin with the FBI it's very important that I speak to the judge." Jack tapped his fingers on the desk while he waited for the judge to come on the line.

Larry Williams wasn't a man known to tolerate trivial interruptions, whatever the agent wanted had better be damned important. "This is Judge Williams," he gruffly spoke into the phone.

"I'm sorry to bother you Judge Williams but I really need to speak to you about the case I'm working on."

"What about it?"

Jack quickly outlined the results to date of their investigation before getting to the reason for his call. "I need a warrant issued so I can bring a suspect in for questioning."

"Since when do you need a warrant to question somebody?" Williams snapped. "Just go pick him up and if the questioning yields enough evidence you can arrest him."

"It's not that simple your honor," Jack calmly replied. "The suspect is a minor to begin with and his father is very influential in law enforcement. I really think we need to make sure all of our ducks are in a row before we bring the boy in."

Larry frowned, "I don't believe you've told me just who this suspect is."

Jack braced himself, "Joe Hardy." He quickly pulled the phone from his ear.

"Are you out of your mind man? The boy is only fourteen…"

"Fifteen your honor, he had a birthday recently."

"Either way he's a child himself and the victim of a horrible crime. You pull him in for questioning and the press will be all over you."

"I'm hoping to keep it quiet unless we pursue charges." For the next minute all Jack could hear was the judge's laughter coming from the phone.

"You've cracked Agent Martin. There's about as much chance of keeping it quiet as there is of the Pope converting to Islam."

"Nevertheless your honor I need to talk to the boy."

Larry sighed, this was probably going to end up a mess but he might not have a choice. "Tell me exactly what evidence you have to suspect the Hardy boy."

"All four victims had been seen harassing Joe Hardy, other than method and place of death nothing else really ties them together. There is also the method of death. Bludgeoning somebody shows a lot of anger; it indicates a personal grudge against the victim."

"But they did bully others?"

"They did," Jack admitted. "However the only victim all four were guilty of going after was Joe Hardy. Your honor I'm not sure the boy is involved, I admit that, but given the evidence we've put together we would be derelict in our duty if we didn't bring him in for questioning."

"Damn," Larry glared at the phone as if it were to blame for the quandary he now found himself in. "Alright I'll sign the warrant but Jack if you arrest him after questioning you'd better be damned sure of your facts because if you've got even one thing wrong the press will crucify you."

"Yes sir."

"I'll have the warrant ready when you get here."

A little over two hours later Jack stood in front of the Hardy home. He warily examined the immediate area, searching for any sign of reporters or cameras. He was relieved when his search turned up nothing, maybe he could keep this quiet after all. Squaring his shoulders he marched up the walk to the front door and rang the bell.

"I'll get it love," Fenton called as he walked down the hall. When he pulled the door open he was surprised to see who their visitor was. "Agent Martin isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What can I do for you?" Fenton hoped the FBI didn't want his help right now. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been away on a case during the holidays but Fenton was pretty sure Laura wouldn't forgive him for leaving this year. Joe was doing much better than he had been at the beginning of school, Dr. Saylor had made real progress with him, but he still had a ways to go. But he couldn't forsake his duty as an investigator either, not even if it was only a week before Thanksgiving.

"Could I come in?" Jack really didn't want to do this on the doorstep.

"Of course," Fenton stepped aside. "We can just go to my office."

"Actually Mr. Hardy I'm not here to see you, well not directly."

"What do you mean?"

"Are you aware that the FBI has been called in on the investigation concerning the murders of four teen boys?"

"Yes I know about that. I take it you're the agent in charge?"

"I am," Jack confirmed. Reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket he removed a piece of paper, folded in thirds. "Mr. Hardy I have here a warrant allowing me to question your son Joseph in relation to the case I am currently investigating."

Fenton took the paper, his eyes hardening as he read the details of the warrant. "This is ridiculous! Do you honestly think my son had something to do with these murders?"

"I wouldn't have asked for a warrant if I didn't. Is your son currently at home?"

"He is," Fenton reluctantly confirmed. He wanted to lie, more than anything he wanted to protect his child but he knew it would do no good. The only thing he would accomplish would be getting himself arrested for obstruction of justice and that wouldn't be any help to Joe. "I won't try to stop you but I won't let you question him without our lawyer present."

Jack nodded, he hadn't expected anything less. He knew some agents assumed lawyering up to be an admission of guilt, they should know better. Only a fool would submit to questioning, knowing he was a suspect, without a lawyer to advise him. "Ordinarily we would need to do this at the federal building but I think the initial questioning can occur here as long as it is properly documented." He had just realized that if he spoke to the boy here it would be easier to keep it from the press; he hoped.

"You mean a camera and microphone?"

"Yes sir."

Fenton narrowed his eyes, "Why?" He didn't really want his son questioned in an official setting; this would all be difficult enough as it was, but he knew what the agent offered was unusual, especially in high profile cases. Things suddenly clicked, "You want to keep the press from finding out?"

"I don't see any reason to subject your son to the press unless necessary." Jack was sure the elder Hardy would understand what he was saying.

"Unless you charge him you mean," Fenton just barely kept his tone civil. "Alright do you have the equipment you need?"

"Not with me," Jack admitted, the idea having just come to him he hadn't been prepared to question the boy here.

"Then it's a good thing I do."

"I could go back to the office and get our equipment." He didn't want to say it but he was sure the FBI's equipment would be much better than anything the private investigator could own.

"And the more you come and go from my home the more likely the press will notice," Fenton pointed out. "Don't worry Agent Martin I'm sure you'll find my equipment more than adequate."

"Yes sir, I suppose I could check it out."

"Why don't you come to my office then, I'll call my lawyer from there." Fenton led the way to his home office. While Agent Martin examined the recording equipment the detective phoned his lawyer, arranging for him to join them at the house. Thankfully the man was a friend; Fenton didn't want to consider what it would cost him to have a lawyer come to his home on a Friday evening otherwise.

"He'll be here in half an hour," Fenton coldly informed the agent currently checking his video camera. "I think it best if we wait until he arrives before we bring Joe into the room."

Reluctantly Jack agreed. If the boy was guilty forcing him to sit in his father's office for half an hour while they waited on the lawyer might make him nervous. Nervous people often gave themselves away. On the other hand if he were innocent it would amount to torture, which, if the press ever got wind of it, wouldn't endear him to his superiors.

TBC...

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	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Joe stared at Agent Martin. "You think…" he couldn't complete the question. This was unreal, why would the FBI think he had been involved with killing anybody? Just the thought was enough to make him feel sick. He glanced at his father, did he suspect him too? Something must have shown on his face because his father was answering before Joe could verbalize the question.

"I know Agent Martin is wrong son, you would never do anything like this." Fenton spared an angry glare for the agent before turning back to his son. "Unfortunately my certainty isn't enough to spare you being questioned."

Joe nodded. "But if you know I didn't do anything wrong why is Mr. Samuels here?"

Tom Samuels answered this question. "Joe it doesn't matter that you're innocent. Anytime law enforcement wants to question you concerning possible criminal activity you should have a lawyer present to protect your rights. I don't say that Agent Martin would do this but there are some in law enforcement who would twist your words in order to gain a conviction or who might pressure you to answer questions you have every right to refuse."

"So you being here doesn't mean that Dad thinks I did anything wrong?"

"Not at all Joe," Tom assured the boy. "Your dad is just making sure that you don't end up being blamed for something you didn't do."

"Tom's right son, I only called him to make sure you're protected," Fenton laid a supportive hand on his son's shoulder.

Joe nodded, "So what happens now?"

"Now Agent Martin asks you some questions and if you're not sure about answering you ask me. We'll be recording the interview; this is a procedure that is in place to protect both you and law enforcement."

Jack turned on the recording equipment, the camera positioned to encompass everybody in the room. "I am FBI Agent Jack Martin questioning Joseph Hardy in the matter of the murders of Mark Miller, Roy Davidson, Billy Dierksen and Zach Stellins. Present are Joseph Hardy, his father Fenton Hardy and legal counsel Tom Samuels. Mr. Hardy before we begin I must advise you that you have the right to remain silent and anything you say could be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?" He didn't need to recite all of the boy's Miranda rights as he wasn't under arrest.

"Yes," to his mortification Joe could hear a slight tremor in his voice in spite of his efforts to keep his fear from being heard.

"Did you know Mark Miller and Roy Davidson?" Jack asked, referring to the first two victims.

"No sir."

Jack raised an eyebrow at this. "No? You're sure of that?"

"I don't know anybody by those names," Joe truthfully responded. He hadn't recognized the names when the agent had mentioned them at the beginning of the recording either.

"So you deny that they were harassing you at the Bayport Mall shortly before they were murdered?"

Joe paled, was that who they were? "There were some boys at the mall that said some stuff but I don't know their names."

Jack frowned and pulled two photographs from his briefcase, these were school pictures. "Were these the boys who harassed you?"

Joe nodded, "But I didn't know them, they recognized me from the paper."

"They were murdered on the same day they harassed you, where did you go after leaving the mall that day?"

"I came home."

"Can anybody verify that?"

"My brother was with me and our mom was here when we got home."

Jack nodded, "What did you do after you came home?"

Joe closed his eyes, thinking back to that day. "I took a shower and then I laid down until supper time."

"Did anybody see you in your room?"

Joe shrugged, "I fell asleep but knowing my brother he probably checked on me more than once."

Jack couldn't help thinking that was awfully convenient. "Why would he have done that?"

"He worries about me and he knew I was upset. He didn't know what had happened but he knew something had upset me."

"You had supper with your family, then what?"

"I watched television for a little while and then came upstairs and went to bed."

"Were you alone?"

"When I went to bed? Yeah."

"And your family would have gone to bed how long after that?"

"I don't know."

"Did you leave the house after your family had gone to bed?"

"No."

"You admit these two boys harassed you?"

Joe glanced at Mr. Samuels, he wasn't sure if he should answer the question but he already had, hadn't he? The lawyer, however, nodded permission. "Yes."

"So you had a motive to kill them?"

Joe's eyes widened. "I didn't kill anybody."

"My client has covered his movements the day of the murders," Samuels interrupted. "Unless you can disprove his statements I suggest you move on."

"Alright then did Billy Dierksen also harass you?"

"Yes."

"And where were you the day he was murdered?"

"I don't know, home probably."

"Probably?"

"I don't go out very much anymore and I never go anywhere alone."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Establishing alibis, I see."

"No, I'm not, that isn't what I…"

"Don't say anything more Joe," Tom stepped in. "Agent Martin my client never suggested that he was establishing an alibi. If you are going to twist his words than this interview is over."

Jack swallowed hard at the twin glares he was receiving from the other men in the room. "I apologize, believe it or not I really am only interested in getting to the truth and preventing any further killings."

"More? You think more boys will be killed?" Joe asked his voice barely audible.

"I don't know," Jack replied. He was pretty sure he wasn't talking to the killer at the moment, unless Joe Hardy was a better actor than he gave him credit for. Nevertheless he continued with the questioning. "Why is it that you don't go out alone or often Joe?"

"I'm not comfortable. I'm working on it, but after what happened last summer it's hard to go outside. It feels like people are watching me, some of them thinking things like those boys said."

"I see," and he really did see. Jack doubted he would have wanted to be around people either if he had gone through what this boy had. The questioning regarding Zach Stellins revealed nothing new. He would of course check on the boy's movements but Jack was sure that Joe Hardy had nothing to do with the murders at least not directly. "Joe I'm going to ask you one more question and I would like you to think very hard about your answer. Can you think of anybody who would attack these boys in an effort to protect you?"

Joe's mouth dropped open in shock. Was that why the boys had been killed? It made sense in a twisted way he guessed. The problem was the only people he could think of who would kill to protect him were his father and brother, maybe his mom, but they wouldn't murder anybody. They would only kill if somebody was threatening him, trying to kill him. The only person he could think of that might murder to protect him from being harassed was dead himself. He said as much to Agent Martin.

"Hmmm," Jack rolled that over in his mind. The dental records had been checked twice, there was no doubt Alex Tomlinson was dead. He did wonder though why Joe thought he might kill to protect him.

Joe ducked his head. "He was talking to me, before the trial."

"What?" Fenton shouted causing Joe to flinch. Seeing this, the elder Hardy took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "What do you mean he was talking to you son? Why would you talk to him?"

"It was only online."

Fenton stared in disbelief. "Only online?"

Joe nodded. "Instant messaging. He sent me a letter, apologizing for his role in the things Red did, not just to me but to the other kids. He put his email in it and we started talking."

Fenton ran his hand through his hair. "I don't understand Joe, why would you want to talk to that man?"

"He was helping me," Joe whispered. He had never intended to tell anybody about the communications with Alex. He knew they wouldn't understand and the man was dead now so it wasn't as if it really mattered.

"Helping you?" Fenton shook his head. "He was the reason you were hurt in the first place."

"And he apologized; besides he came up with that to keep Red from killing everybody."

"What?" He couldn't have heard his son correctly.

"The first family they went after Red was going to kill the whole family and take the girl with them. He planned to kill her later, Alex talked him out of that," Joe explained.

"I don't believe you…how could you believe anything he told you? Don't you realize he was just playing you?"

"Why?"

"Why? He was probably hoping to convince you not to testify or maybe he just got his jollies by keeping you angry with us. I don't know his motives Joe and I don't want to try to get into his head long enough to figure it out but I am certain his reasons weren't pure."

"He's the reason I agreed to testify," Joe yelled. Seeing the men staring at him, the teen shrank back in his chair. "I wasn't going to but Alex said I had to. He said it wouldn't matter if I didn't because Mom, Frank and Phil would and if I didn't it would just make them mad at me." He turned to his father, desperate to make him understand. "You were there in the courtroom Dad, you saw what he did. If he was playing me then why did he stand up and change his plea when I was testifying? I'm sorry I didn't tell you Dad but I knew you wouldn't like it that he was helping me, he understood what I was going through because he knew what had happened."

"Fenton," Tom laid a hand on his old friend's arm, "maybe you should calm down. What's done is done and Tomlinson can never hurt Joe or any other child again."

Fenton nodded, forcing himself to calm down; again, he seemed to be doing that a lot today. "You're right. Joe, son, I'm sorry for yelling but the thought of you talking to that man…"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before." He wouldn't apologize for talking to Alex; he had needed him at the time.

"Joe, you said Tomlinson apologized for letting the other children be hurt too," Jack stepped in.

"Yes sir."

"Do you think he could have been talking to some of the other children?"

"I don't know. He never mentioned it."

"What are you thinking Agent Martin?" Fenton asked.

"I'm not sure but it does seem as if the killer is targeting boys who have harassed Joe; there has to be a connection." A germ of a plan began to grow in Jack's mind, but would either Hardy agree to it? Would his superiors agree? Giving himself a mental shake he turned off the recording devices and retrieved the tapes. "Thank you for your time Joe. I will have to check on your alibis of course but I don't believe you killed anybody."

Joe nodded, "Thanks," he whispered.

"I'll just see myself out," Jack said. He would run his idea past his superiors first and if they approved he would ask the Hardys for their permission. With any luck this would be the key to drawing the killer into the open.

"Bradley Cooper," Joe gasped.

"Excuse me," Jack said, turning around.

"He's another boy at my school. He harassed me too, but he apologized."

"You think he might have decided to go after the other boys?"

Joe shook his head. "No, but he might be a target. I mean we don't know who is doing this and I was never sure he meant the apology so the killer might go after him too."

"Damn," Jack cursed. "I'll arrange protection. Can you think of anybody else?"

Joe thought carefully. "No, there's been some looks and whispers but nobody else has really said anything to me."

"If you think of anybody or any other kids start harassing you let me know," Jack handed him a card with his number on it. Jack quickly took his leave; he had a protection detail to arrange. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

TBC...

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	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Jack's shoulders slumped in relief as he watched the car holding the Cooper family disappear in the distance. It hadn't been easy to convince them that the entire family needed to be placed in protective custody, though Bradley was the only one who would likely be targeted. Eric Cooper had wanted it to be only the boy and his mother who went into protective custody, he had business obligations. Luckily his wife and son were able to convince him to join them.

Jack didn't really believe the entire family to be at risk but they couldn't expect parents to allow their child to live in a safe house without them. Aside from simple consideration there was always a possibility the killer would go after one of the parents if he couldn't reach the child.

"One down, one to go."

"What's that boss?"

Jack shook his head, "Just thinking Ted."

"About the Hardys?" Ted hadn't worked with Jack all these years without learning something about reading the man.

Jack nodded.

"It's not going to be easy to convince them."

"I know that," Jack snapped. "Sorry Ted, I shouldn't take my frustration out on you."

Ted shrugged. It wasn't the first time he'd been snapped at by a superior and it probably wouldn't be the last. When a man was frustrated or angry he naturally needed to let it out sometime, better that his boss snap at him than go home and take that frustration out on his family. He, at least, could understand where Jack was coming from. For several minutes neither man spoke.

"You think they'll agree?" Ted finally asked.

"I have no idea," Jack admitted. "Fenton Hardy is a professional and I'm sure he'll see the reasoning behind this. The problem is he's also a father, who I'll be asking to expose his child to more public scrutiny and possibly danger."

Ted frowned. "I thought you said this nut is targeting kids who have bullied the Hardy boy."

"He has, but like you said he's a nut and as such there's no predicting what he might do. But he isn't the only one I'm worried about. If Hardy agrees to this there is a possibility of some member of the public taking the initiative of doing something to stop the killings, and that person might decide getting rid of Joe Hardy is the answer."

"Damn, I hadn't thought of that."

Jack smiled grimly, "That's why I get paid the big bucks." Heaving a heavy sigh he turned to his car and opened the door. "No time like the present."

"Want me to come along?"

"I appreciate the offer Ted but I think I'll have better luck if I go alone. You go on back to the office and start working up the press release we'll need to issue if Hardy agrees."

***LINE BREAK***

"You want to what!?"

Jack involuntarily flinched under the anger radiating off the eldest Hardy. "Mr. Hardy if you'd give me a chance to explain…"

"Explain? There is no explanation that would convince me to allow you to use my son. What you're suggesting is reprehensible and irresponsible. I cannot believe your superiors would go along with this." That was a lie; Fenton admitted to himself, he could easily see the higher ups at the FBI agreeing to the plan. This was one of the reasons he'd left law enforcement and went into business for himself. Too many times he'd seen officers at all levels develop tunnel vision when working a case. They're goals might have been to stop crimes when beginning to work a case, but all too many times it would become more about besting a perceived enemy, proving their own superiority, rather than protecting the public.  
>"Mr. Hardy I understand how you feel but this is our best chance of stopping this guy."<p>

Fenton glared at the man. "Would you describe the man killing these children as sane Agent Martin?"

"Not hardly."

"Then why would you expect him to react like a sane man to the press release you're proposing?"

Jack gulped, when put like that it didn't sound like a good idea. The problem was he couldn't think of any other possibility, aside from waiting for another attack and hoping the killer would make a mistake. "Mr. Hardy this man, as far as we can tell, is killing these children for their attacks on your son. That indicates his aim is to protect Joe, agreed?"

Fenton reluctantly agreed to the statement.

"So if he thinks your son is under suspicion in these murders it stands to reason that he will come forward and turn himself in."

"And if he doesn't Joe is faced with more public scrutiny and more children, this time joined by adults, thinking he is to blame for these murders."

"I won't deny that could happen."

"Could?" Fenton was incredulous.

"Alright, you're right it would happen."

"So you can see why I can't allow you to use Joe's name this way?"

"I can," Jack admitted. "What if I promise that if our suspect doesn't turn himself in within two weeks of the press release we will issue another press release admitting to our ruse? Letting the public, through the media, in on the ruse will of course occur sooner if the man does turn himself in. Will that satisfy you?"

"I don't…" Fenton broke off as his office door opened to reveal his youngest son standing in the entrance.

"I want to do it Dad." Joe had seen Agent Martin arrive and afraid of what it might mean he had snuck down the hall to his father's office, listening outside the door. He consoled his guilty conscience with the reminder that detectives regularly eavesdropped on the conversations of others. Hearing the proposal put forth by Agent Martin, Joe had felt the blood drain from his face. He couldn't deny that he was relieved when his father refused the request that was until he heard the rest of the conversation. His father might be right and the man killing other boys wouldn't come forward but what if it did work? Could he live with himself if his father's refusal led to more murders?

"You were listening?" Fenton accused.

"You're a detective Dad, what would you have done?"

Fenton couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. Joe was right; he would have done the same thing if their roles were reversed. "Nevertheless I expect you to respect my privacy."

Joe hung his head. "Yes sir."

"But since you did listen I'd like to know why you're willing to go along with this cockamamie idea?"

"I don't think I'd call it cockamamie, more like a long-shot," Joe countered.

"Alright, call it a long-shot then," Fenton conceded the point. "If we let the FBI issue this press release you'll be dealing with accusations and suspicion from a lot of people. I'm not sure you can handle that Joe."

Joe opened his mouth to protest, stopping when his father held up a hand, silently asking him to wait.

"This has nothing to do with you being in therapy or even what you went through. The truth is son I'm not sure anybody your age could handle the reaction this press release is likely to stir up. Hell I'm not sure I could handle it," Fenton wasn't ashamed to admit it either.

"Really?"

Fenton squeezed Joe's shoulder. "Really son, most people would have a difficult time with it. Are you sure you want to let the FBI do this?"

"No, but something has to be done, doesn't it?" Joe slid a sideways glance at Agent Martin, "Besides they can do it even if we say no, can't they?"

Jack flushed, embarrassed to be caught out by a teenager. "I won't pretend you're wrong Joe but I for one wouldn't do that to you. You've been victimized enough I don't think the government needs to become one of those guilty of it."

"Do you really think it will work?"

"I could lie to you Joe but I don't operate that way. The truth is I don't know. I hope it will work, given the evidence as to the killer's motives, I have high hopes but as your father said you can't predict the actions of an insane person."

"And it's only for two weeks?" Joe winced, hating how small his voice sounded. He hadn't wanted to let on to either of the men, but especially his father, just how scared he was of the whole thing.

"I promise you Joe if this man doesn't turn himself in by the end of the two weeks I will hold a press conference explaining the deception. Most importantly I will make it clear that you are in no way involved with or to blame for the actions of a person who is clearly insane."

Joe looked at his father. He knew the older man wanted him to say no, a part of him wanted the same thing. Hadn't he been hurt enough this year? Hadn't he endured enough? And if he said no the person killing those who bullied him, if that was the reason, would continue, leaving the blood of those future victims as much on his hands as on those of the killer. "I think we should say yes," he looked up at his father, blue eyes shining with feeling.

Fenton sighed. From the moment he had met Laura all she'd needed to do was turn those same beautiful eyes on him, shimmering with emotion, and he would cave. Why did she have to teach their son the same trick, he ruefully wondered? "Alright, but I'm holding you to that two week limit Agent Martin."

***LINE BREAK***

Alex leaned back in his recliner, a satisfied smile on his face. Jeremy hadn't mentioned any further incidents taking place at the school, though he was still allowing Joey to use his personal shower. If he had chosen the man himself, Alex couldn't have picked a better protector for the boy while he was at school. Hopefully the problems Joey had experienced would ease off; Alex really didn't want to punish anybody else. He would; of course, he owed it to Joey to protect him as much as possible. Picking up the remote he turned the television on to the evening news.

_"A source at the FBI, who spoke on condition of anonymity, has informed us today of progress made in the recent Bayport murders. As you know four boys have been murdered in recent months, all in the same manner. Police and FBI searched in vain for a connection between the boys. Our source tells us a connection has been found in the person of another boy. Joe Hardy was interviewed by agents with the FBI in regards to these murders and our source tells us that the FBI hopes to make an arrest soon. The source did not confirm if young Mr. Hardy will be the person arrested. As many of you are aware Joe Hardy himself was the victim…"_

With a snarl Alex turned the television off, hurling the remote across the room. Those incompetent fools! How could they ever think his Joey would kill anybody? Well he wasn't going to let the government use Joey as a scapegoat. He would protect him and nothing, or nobody was going to stop him. "I'll keep you safe pet, I promise."

TBC...

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	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Frank watched his brother, dark eyes filled with worry. Chet had called him earlier in the day to report that Joe had retreated to his sanctuary, something he hadn't done for at least three weeks. As they left the school Frank had decided to drive out Shore road. He wanted to talk to Joe privately, somewhere that would prevent any chance of interruption; he was pretty sure the younger boy didn't even notice the change in route. "I don't know if I could do it."

Joe turned startled eyes towards his brother. "Do what?"

"The FBI leak," Frank clarified.

Joe huffed, "Of course you could Frank. You'd never let people die if you could do something to stop it."

Frank had to look away; sometimes Joe's admiration was a scary thing. It was a lot to live up to, more than the older brother thought himself capable of most of the time. He could never understand why Joe thought so highly of him, but it had been that way ever since they were little. Frank hadn't really thought much of it then, he just thought it was normal but then they started school and he quickly realized most siblings weren't as close as he and Joe. "I don't know if I'd be brave enough."

"Brave? You think I'm brave?" Joe couldn't hide his surprise. How could Frank call him brave? He'd seen and had probably lost count of the number of times Joe had retreated to the safety of his room or his sanctuary at school. His brother should know, better than anybody exactly how not brave he was.

"I know you are little brother," Frank squeezed the back of Joe's neck.

"Right," Joe scoffed. "Because brave people hide in their bedrooms or some other safe place; face it Frank your brother is a coward."

Frank jerked the wheel, nearly running the car off the road. Giving into his instincts he moved the vehicle to the shoulder bringing it to a full stop and throwing it into park. Grabbing Joe's shoulder he forced the younger boy to face him. "Don't you ever call yourself that again. You're not a coward and I'm not going to listen to you put yourself down."

"Well what else would you call it Frank?" Joe demanded.

Frank's mouth fell open. He tried to say something, but nothing came out.

"See, you know it's true," Joe mumbled. He would have turned away but Frank wouldn't allow it, forcing him to continue facing him. Unable to face the older boy and unable to look away, Joe closed his eyes.

"It's not true. No, listen to me Joe," Frank snapped when his brother opened his mouth to protest. "A coward wouldn't have gone to that courtroom and faced one of the men who had hurt him. A coward wouldn't have gone to therapy or if made to wouldn't have worked to make himself better. A coward wouldn't have stepped foot outside the house, maybe not even his room. Yes sometimes you have to retreat but that doesn't make you a coward little brother it only makes you human." Frank eased his hold, his voice softening. "But do you know what proves to me that you are anything but a coward?"

Joe unable to speak past the lump in his throat could only shake his head.

"The fact that you agreed to this ruse the FBI is using. No coward would agree to something like that knowing it would mean more gossip, more finger-pointing and possibly physical attacks." Frank gave his brother a small shake, "So no more thinking yourself a coward, got it?"

Joe dove into his brother's arms, giving him a quick hug as he whispered thanks. Embarrassed he pulled away just as another car pulled up behind them. Glancing in the mirror he saw a non-descript dark sedan. "I think we're about to be told off by a cop."

Frank looked behind them and groaned. "Great," he mumbled as he reached for his wallet. Technically you weren't supposed to park on the shoulder unless it was an emergency. He was pretty sure that reassuring your little brother wasn't considered an emergency. Frank could only hope that a lecture was all he got; he really didn't need a ticket.

Joe was keeping his head down, hoping the cop didn't recognize him. The only members of the local force who had been told of the FBI's plan were Collig and his chief detective; there was no way to predict how a cop would act towards Joe. After all of the whispering and pointing he had endured at school today Joe really hoped he wasn't about to find out. He chanced a glance sideways just as the man appeared outside the window, a stun gun in his hand. Joe's eyes widened in shock, "Frank duck," he shouted in warning.

Instinctively Frank followed his brother's warning. He felt a crackle of electrical power above him just before Joe cried out, his body twitching from the effects of the discharge. Enraged by the attack on his brother Frank reached for the door handle, kicking out as he pulled the release, shoving the door into their attacker, knocking him to the ground. Later he would kick himself for getting out of the car but at the time he was overcome by anger.

"You son of a bitch," Frank cursed, his right hand curled into a fist as he reached for the man on the ground with his left. For a second he froze, looking back at him was a man who was supposed to be dead. That second was all Tomlinson needed as he aimed the stun gun and activated it once more, dropping Frank to the ground.

Alex pulled himself up until he was kneeling next to the teen. "I should kill you but," he glanced at the car, "it would hurt Joey."

Frank wanted to tell him to leave Joe alone but he couldn't make his mouth work right, nothing would work right.

"I never meant to hurt him but you moved," Alex explained. He had only intended to use the stun gun on the older teen, but maybe it was better this way. "I'll have to apologize later," he murmured. Patting Frank on the face, "Don't worry I'll take good care of him."

Frank watched in helpless terror as Tomlinson stood and moved to the car. He struggled to bring his muscles under control as the older man removed Joe from their car. Nothing doing, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't gain enough control to save his brother. Once more he was forced to watch, helpless to save his brother from a nightmare reality. "No, please," he managed to whisper as the other car pulled away, his brother trapped inside. Frank tried to turn his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of the license plate but it was no use. Tears of frustration and fear fell down his cheeks as he listened to the car moving away, taking his brother with it.

Alex glanced often in the rearview mirror, watching for any sign of pursuit. Joey had tried to struggle as he lifted him from the car but like his brother he was incapable of controlling his muscles. He whispered apologies as he carried the boy to his own vehicle, assuring him that his brother was alive, only stunned as was Joe. He nearly changed his plan as blue eyes looked up at him in mute accusation, but Alex knew he had to do this; Joey would understand when he explained.

Gently he laid the teen on the back seat of his car. "I'm sorry pet but I can't chance you being awake," Alex stroked the boy's cheek. He ignored the flinch; it was probably just an involuntary muscle reaction anyway. Reaching into the bag on the back floorboard he pulled out a pre-filled syringe, injecting the contents into Joey's arm. He hoped the sedative wouldn't hurt him, considering he'd already been hit with a stun gun, but what choice did he have? Alex couldn't have Joey awake, trying to escape and he didn't want to tie him up. No, this way was best he told himself as he watched the teen's eyes slide shut. Making the boy as comfortable as possible, he covered him with a blanket and then climbed behind the wheel of the car.

He didn't think Frank had seen the plate number but he refused to take a chance. Luckily he was prepared for every eventuality. Alex drove only a few miles before pulling off the road, down an old driveway leading to a crumbling barn, all that was left of a once thriving farm. Moving quickly he transferred Joe and all of his supplies to the vehicle he had left hidden here. The entire operation took less than twenty minutes.

Leaving his original vehicle behind Alex returned to Shore road. A few miles further on he turned onto a little used road. He didn't know how long it would take the cops to set up road blocks but of course they would as soon as the older boy reported his brother's abduction. Alex didn't intend to be anywhere near Bayport or any of its major roads by the time they thought to begin looking on the lesser used roads.

Alex looked at the seat next to him where Joey lay in the fully reclined seat. Reaching across, he ran his fingers through the boy's golden hair, though he knew Joey wouldn't be aware of the comforting gesture. "You'll be safe soon pet. Nobody will ever hurt you again, I promise."

TBC...

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	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

"I'm telling you it was Tomlinson!" Frank just kept himself from screaming at Ted Barnes of the FBI. Before the agent could tell him, again, that he was mistaken the door opened and Frank's parents rushed into the room.

"Oh Frank, honey are you okay?" Laura wrapped her arms around her eldest, holding him close. She could feel him trembling under her hands, she wondered if it was from fear or anger; probably a combination of the two.

"I'm fine Mom." Frank shrugged off her hold. He might never convince his mother but he knew he didn't deserve her concern. Frank looked up at his father, expecting to see condemnation, he couldn't hold back his surprised gasp at the love and concern he saw reflected back at him.

Fenton laid a hand on the young shoulder, "This wasn't your fault son," he said, correctly reading the guilt on his son's face.

"I shouldn't have stopped." Frank shook his head, "No, I shouldn't have taken him out on Shore Road in the first place. I knew the article was meant to draw out the killer but there was always a chance somebody would decide to go after Joe. It was stupid," Frank would have continued berating himself if not for his mother's interruption.

"Stop it right this instant," Laura firmly ordered. "You're only a boy yourself Frank, if anybody is to blame for what has happened it's the adults who should have known better." Her fierce glare took in both her husband and Agent Barnes. She had hated the idea from the beginning but as usually happened she allowed Fenton to talk her into ignoring her better judgment.

"But I let Joe be kidnapped and he," Frank pointed at Barnes, "won't believe that it was Tomlinson."

"Tomlinson?" Laura gasped.

"Are you absolutely positive son?" Fenton asked. The dental records had confirmed that Tomlinson had died in the bus crash but Frank was very observant, it wasn't likely he would make a mistake. And if there was one face he would recognize it would be that of Alex Tomlinson.

"He was standing right over me Dad. He told me he would take good care of Joe and all I could do was lay there. I couldn't stop him from taking Joe with him; I couldn't even get the plate number."

"It couldn't have been Tomlinson, he's dead, has been for months," Barnes put in.

"I'm not lying and I'm not wrong," Frank snapped.

Ted Barnes sighed heavily, frustrated in his efforts to gain a valid description of Joe Hardy's kidnapper. "I know you're not lying but the dental records confirmed Tomlinson was in that prison bus."

Frank ran a shaky hand through his hair, "Then they were faked or somebody lied."

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know but I know who I saw! Why are you still here? You should be out there trying to find my brother before that monster hurts him again."

"A search has already begun, roadblocks are in place and an alert has gone out to the media. We will find your brother but…"

"Are we sure Tomlinson was an only child?" Laura asked. She knew she was grasping at straws but the thought of that man being alive and alone with her son turned her blood to ice. Although she couldn't say a sibling would be any better.

"This isn't some silly soap opera Mrs. Hardy," Ted chided. "I'm afraid we're not going to find some unknown twin behind this."

Laura bristled. "I've a feeling you couldn't find your backside with a map and both hands Agent Barnes. I don't know how he managed it, but if Tomlinson is in fact an only child then he must have somehow faked his death."

Ted opened his mouth to once more insist that the records couldn't be wrong when the door opened and Jack walked into the fray. "Jack, have you found anything?" Hopefully another witness who could give them an accurate description of the kidnapper, it was the best he could hope for.

"Not yet," Jack regretfully informed the occupants of the room. He hated to be the one to destroy the hope he'd seen blossoming in the faces of the Hardy's, particularly mother and son, his entrance had caused. "I'm hoping Frank here saw the kidnapper."

"I did, it was Tomlinson and yes I know he's supposed to be dead," Frank snapped before the other man could respond. "I'm not crazy and I'm not confused. Alex Tomlinson kidnapped my brother and while you people stand here trying to convince me I'm wrong he's getting further and further away."

Jack turned to Ted, "Did you bother to let the locals and our field agents know?"

"He can't be right Jack," Ted protested.

"Then it's somebody who looks like Tomlinson which means we have a description we can use," Jack countered. He didn't know if the boy was wrong or not, but he was very much afraid not.

Ted gave an abrupt nod, "I'll issue the description." Handing his notes to Jack he left the room.

"Thank you," Frank said after Barnes left the room.

"I'm just doing my job Frank."

Frank shrugged, "Maybe but at least you're not just brushing what I have to say to the side."

"The way I see it is this, one if anybody should know what Tomlinson looks like it's you, two Tomlinson had money so faking his death isn't out of the realm of possibility and three even if the kidnapper turns out not to be Tomlinson he must look a lot like him to fool you." Jack paused, looking over Ted's notes, comparing them with his own. "I don't suppose you got a good look at the car?"

Frank miserably shook his head, "It was a dark sedan is about all I can tell you. We thought at first it was an unmarked police car."

"What made you think that?"

Frank took some time to think about the question. Why had they been so sure it was the police pulling in behind them? Had it only been because they were parked on the shoulder or was there something else? "The headlights," he snapped his fingers.

"What about them?"

"They were the same shape as you see on police cars; in fact I don't think I've ever seen that shape on any other vehicles."

"Good, that's good Frank," Jack praised. It wasn't a lot but it would narrow the search a little bit. They might even be able to find out where he had gotten the car as older, retired vehicles were often sold at auction. "Anything else?"

"It was dark, black I think," Frank bit his lip trying to remember anything else. He closed his eyes, visualizing the scene, "The front tag was missing too. I'm sorry I can't remember anything else."

"You did fine son," Fenton assured the teen.

"Your father's right Frank. It isn't easy to focus when you're suffering under the effects of a stun gun," Jack added.

Laura shivered, hugging Frank again. "I'm just glad that's all it was."

"Are you going to be talking to Tomlinson's father?" Fenton asked.

"I doubt it'll do any good but he may know something." Jack wasn't sure the man would tell them if he did have an idea about where his son might be. He gave himself a mental shake; he shouldn't be working on the assumption that Tomlinson was alive.

"You should probably check into Tomlinson's investments too, see if he has any secluded properties he could take Joe to."

Jack nodded; he could see now why Hardy was often called in to assist on agency cases. Maybe…he looked up from his notes, speculatively eyeing father and son. "Mr. Hardy how would you and Frank like to help…"

"No," Laura nearly yelled. "Fenton you can help, but I'm not having another one of my boys put in harm's way."

"It won't be anything dangerous Mrs. Hardy, I promise you."

Laura made a scoffing sound in the back of her throat, "Is that what you told Fenton when you suggested using Joe to flush out a killer?"

Jack turned red, feeling properly chastised.

"What did you have in mind Agent Martin?" Fenton ignored the glare Laura aimed his way.

"If you and Frank could look through the records it would free up more agents for the search," Jack replied, grateful for the chance to explain.

Frank looked at his mother, his dark eyes pleading for permission. The assignment wasn't in any way dangerous but it would allow him to help and he desperately needed to help in the search for his brother. He had failed him too many times, beginning with that horrible day in June, he couldn't fail again.

Laura sighed. "Well I don't suppose there's anything dangerous in that," she conceded. She stared hard at her eldest, willing him to accept her request. "But if you find anything you let the professionals follow up on it, agreed?"

"Agreed," Frank readily gave into the request. Honestly he would have promised anything for the chance to help find his brother.

TBC...

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	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Slowly he became aware of an invisible weight pressing down on his eyelids making it impossible to open them. Joe couldn't understand what was happening, why couldn't he open his eyes? He searched his mind for the answer; with a strangled gasp memory returned.

A sharp intake of breath alerted Alex, bringing him to Joe's side. "Shhh, you're safe now pet," he soothed.

If not for the drug still affecting him Joe was sure he would have flinched at the unexpected voice; unexpected in more ways than one. He struggled to open his eyes only to find his vision blurred. He wasn't sure how long it took but finally he managed to focus. "You can't be here," he croaked. Joe knew it was Alex looming over him but he was…"Am I dead?"

"What? No," Alex quickly answered the startling question. "Why would you ask that?"

Joe stared, confused. "You're dead."

Alex smiled. "No pet, I only made them think I was dead. It was the best way I had to protect you."

"Protect me?"

"I told you I wouldn't let you be hurt again." Alex smiled down at the boy, fingers brushing through blond hair. "Do you think you could drink some water?"

Joe nodded and tried to sit up. It was impossible, his whole body felt as if it were weighed down with lead.

"Here, let me help you." Hooking an arm behind Joe's back Alex helped the boy sit up, rearranging the pillows behind him so he would be more comfortable. "Better?"

"Thanks."

"I'll be right back with your water."

Joe looked around the bedroom, for that was where he found himself. The walls were a rough wood and through the only window he could see nothing but trees. How far from Bayport were they? Would he ever see his family again? The thought jolted him, bringing memory to the forefront. If Alex had used a stun gun on him what had he done to Frank? At that moment the door opened showing a living room beyond; Joe turned his head to glare at the man who had taken him from his family.

Alex, startled by the anger in Joe's eyes, nearly dropped the glass of water. With effort he hid his reaction. "You're angry," he stated matter-of-factly as he crossed the room. Lowering himself to the edge of the bed he offered the glass to Joe. He wasn't surprised when the boy made no effort to take the water.

"What did you do to Frank?" Joe demanded.

"Is that what this is about? Don't worry Joey, your brother is fine. I only stunned him, it wasn't very comfortable but the effects will have worn off by now and he'll be none the worse for wear."

"It was you wasn't it?"

Alex didn't have to guess what Joe meant. "They hurt you pet."

"They didn't deserve to die."

Alex said nothing as he placed the glass in Joe's hands. He ignored the flinch from the boy as he ignored the words declining his help. He could easily see the blond couldn't manage to lift the glass to his lips without assistance. "I won't let anybody hurt you Joey."

"Except you," Joe countered. Maybe he wasn't being entirely fair, Alex had done a lot to help him too and he had saved him from Red. But he had hurt him, both physically and emotionally, the guilt he'd felt over the man's supposed death had certainly hurt. The thought that he had killed other boys in some weird effort to protect Joe brought a new level of pain to the teen.

It was Alex who flinched this time, the words hitting home with the accuracy of a sniper's bullet. "I deserve that. I can't change the past pet, I wish I could. What I can do, what I will do, is protect you now and forever."

Joe sighed; being honest he knew he had felt a certain amount of relief at knowing those boys were no longer a threat to him. Did that make him as bad as Alex? No, Diane had helped him see the truth. No matter what had been said, even threatened, he had never wished them dead. He had hated to hear about what had happened to them and to know it was because of him…Joe shuddered.

"Are you cold pet?" Alex didn't wait for an answer as he lovingly tucked a blanket around the young teen.

Joe looked up at the man who would be his protector; a tear fell down his cheek. "I didn't want them to die."

"I know pet," Alex laid his hand on Joe's shoulder. "You are such a forgiving person Joey," he smiled, "but I'm not. I couldn't allow those boys to torment you over something that was in no way your fault." He sighed heavily, "I should never have allowed our madness to touch you. If I had known how special you are I would have steered him towards another target."

"I wouldn't have wanted that."

"What?" If he could have guessed Joe's reaction those words would have been the last he would have expected.

"I don't mean that I wanted that day to happen but I wouldn't have wanted somebody else to take my place either. And you did save me from the worst of what Red could have done," Joe was glad the rapid beating of his heart couldn't be heard. Talking about that day had, as usually happened, brought the memories to the forefront of his mind with such strength it was as if he were reliving the events.

Alex swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. The things he had done to all their victims, had allowed Red to do, had been nothing more than an exciting game. Red had gotten his kicks in hurting and humiliating their targets, but not Alex. His thrill had come with his ability to manipulate the children into thinking of him as their savior. Gaining their trust and dependence had given him a thrill like no other. Until Joey and suddenly the manipulations turned real. There was something about the boy that brought out the protective side of himself he'd thought dead alongside his mother. It had led to killing, something he had avoided until now but he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions, only the pain it had caused his Joey. "I owed you that much and more for what you've given me pet."

Joe didn't understand what he meant. What could he have given Alex? He said as much.

Alex smiled, "I know you don't pet and I promise I'll explain later. For now, though you should get some more rest, let the drug get out of your system."

"Alex I…you're trying to help me I know that," he licked suddenly dry lips. Would he be punished for what he was about to say? He would have to risk it, he decided, pushing his fear to the side. "but I can't stay here with you."

"You miss your family," Alex nodded. He tried to understand but his relationship with his father had never been good and had only grown worse following his mother's death. He honestly couldn't understand why Joey would want to return to his family. Why would he want to return to the father who was rarely home? The mother who had tried to escape in spite of knowing what it would mean for her son? Maybe it was the brother Joey wanted to return to? Alex had watched the older boy that day and in the time since his escape from the prison bus; he knew the dark haired boy had done all he could to protect Joey. "We'll talk about it later pet, for now sleep."

Using his greater strength and Joey's drug weakened muscles to his advantage Alex soon had the boy lying flat once more. With loving care he tucked the blanket around the teen, laying a finger against Joey's lips when he would speak. "Shhh pet, sleep for now, we'll talk later." Pushing to his feet, Alex left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

TBC...

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	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Jack Martin flashed his badge at Tomlinson Sr.'s secretary as he breezed past her. Opening the door he saw a luxurious office filled with various objects of art. The primary focus of the room, however, was on the large mahogany desk sitting in front of a wall of windows. The expensive high-backed leather chair was turned towards the window, allowing Jack to see only the very top of the occupant's head.

"I told you I don't wish to be disturbed Janice," a powerfully deep voice intoned from the other side of the desk.

"I'm afraid I didn't give Janice a chance to tell me no," Jack smirked. Tomlinson spun the chair so he was facing Jack.

"You have ten seconds before I call security."

Jack showed his badge, "Jack Martin, FBI."

"What can I do for the FBI?"

Jack was impressed in spite of himself. Not very many people could remain in control of themselves when faced with a federal agent. "It's about your son sir."

Tomlinson narrowed his eyes. "My son is dead and I believe we can agree the world is better for it."

Jack skillfully hid his reaction to the man's words. He was no fan of Alex Tomlinson's but for a father to say something like that, well it explained a bit about the younger man's behavior. "That isn't completely certain."

At this Richard Tomlinson's mask slipped, just a bit. Quickly, hating to show any weakness, he schooled his features to their usual emotionless state. "I was under the impression dental records had confirmed Alex's presence on that bus."

"They did," Jack confirmed. "However, earlier today there was an attack on Frank and Joe Hardy. Joe was taken and Frank identified the kidnapper as your son."

"The boy is mistaken," Richard brushed aside the assertion.

"Frank Hardy spent a day in your son's company, watching his brother tortured for no reason that made sense. Do you really think he doesn't know what your son looks like?"

Richard turned his chair towards the window. He had never been close to Alex, the boy preferring his mother's company from a young age. It had suited Richard at the time, the boy's dependence on Annaleise providing him with the time to devote to his business obligations. He had always thought he would have time later, as Alex grew from boy to man, to develop a closer relationship.

His mother's death had destroyed any chance of that. The years that followed had been filled with fights and recriminations as both tried to deal with the loss of the woman they loved. Richard had never given up on his son, always hoping he would forgive him for the part he'd played in his wife's death. He hadn't approved of many of the things Alex had done and when the boy's crimes came to light he had been as horrified as any. That didn't stop him from hiring the best criminal defense lawyer he could for him. Alex was still his son after all and of course the family name should be protected as well.

"You believe the boy then?"

"I think we'd be foolish to assume he's mistaken."

Richard nodded, turning to face Agent Martin. "I agree. However, I have no idea where my son could be. Frankly until you told me I had assumed the body I buried was my son."

"I realize the possibility that Alex is alive must be a shock but can you think of any place he might take Joe Hardy?"

His instinctive response was a resounding no, but Richard held himself back. He couldn't really claim to know his son anymore, if he ever had, but he did have some knowledge of his finances and holdings. "I assume you've checked for any properties he owned, owns?"

"I have people doing that now. So far they haven't come across any likely properties."

"Don't assume Alex would take him to a secluded property," Richard advised. He could see he had surprised the agent. "My son has always been exceedingly clever Agent Martin; add to that a large bank account and the world is, as the saying goes, his oyster. He could easily soundproof an apartment or house for instance."

Jack ruefully admitted the man was right. They had been foolish to overlook the possibility. "Your son owned a great number of properties, checking them all will take time. Time Joe Hardy may not have. Can you tell me anything that might narrow the search?"

"I can get you a list of the properties I've sold since his supposed death, which are occupied and which are still vacant."

"That would be very helpful, thank you."

Richard picked up the phone, speaking orders into it. "The list will be here momentarily," he said as he returned the receiver. "I will give the problem some thought and if I think of any likely place I will contact you."

"Thank you," Jack handed the man a card with his direct line on it. He was as grateful as he was surprised by the elder Tomlinson's cooperation. He had fully expected the need to bring out the threat of publicity and/or warrants to gain any help. The two of them sat in silence for the next several minutes while they waited for the list to be brought, both lost in thought. As soon as the list was in his hands Jack said a hasty good-bye and headed back to the office.

Joe wasn't sure what time it was, there was no clock in the room and Alex had taken his watch. He wasn't sure why, maybe just to keep him off-balance. Judging by the lack of light in the room it was certainly night, but whether it was the same night or what time of night Joe had no idea. Feeling better than he had the last time he woke he quietly climbed from the bed. Standing on shaky legs Joe slowly made his way to the window.

Grasping the bottom of the frame he pushed upwards, to no avail. Something was stopping the window from rising. He thought about turning on the light but if Alex was awake he didn't want him to see it and know Joe was up. Using his fingers he felt along the window frame for any obstruction, his heart sinking when he felt the first nail. He wouldn't be getting out that way, unless he broke the window and Alex would surely come into the room at the first sound of shattering glass. Joe blinked rapidly as light flooded the room, blinding him and making his eyes sting.

"You shouldn't be out of bed pet," Alex chided the boy. Moving swiftly he crossed the room, wrapping one arm around the teen's shoulders he guided him back to the bed.

Joe let himself be led. He felt better, yes, but he wasn't in any shape to make a run for it. Nor did he want to risk angering Alex.

Alex pushed Joe onto the bed and sat beside him. "You weren't thinking of leaving were you pet?"

"I need to go home sir."

"Now Joey what did I tell you? Call me Alex," he smiled. "Where would you go if you had gotten out through the window?"

Joe stared, "Home."

"Watch the tone pet."

Joe flinched, recognizing the warning for what it was. "Sorry Alex."

"That's better. Now which way is home?" He needed Joey to understand that leaving the cabin was a bad idea. These woods could be dangerous, particularly at night. Wild animals aside there was also the very real danger of the boy becoming hopelessly lost.

Joe's shoulders slumped as he realized the futility of escape. He would have to find out where he was before he considered leaving. "I didn't think of that."

"Don't worry pet I'll take good care of you," Alex gave the boy a one-armed hug.

"But I want to be with my family," Joe protested.

"I'm your family now pet. The sooner you accept that the better off you'll be."

Joe swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Now it's the middle of the night and you should be sleeping." Standing up Alex waited for Joe to lie back on the bed. Leaning over the boy he pulled the covers over him, brushing a kiss against his forehead. "Good-night pet, sleep well."

Joe shuddered as Alex walked away and as the door closed he gave into the tears.

TBC...

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	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Frank rubbed his eyes trying to dispel the blurriness. He needed to focus; the papers in front of him might hold the vital information they had to have. If only the words would stop moving together.

On the other side of the table Fenton leaned back in his chair, the satisfying sound of his spine cracking bringing a sigh of relief to his lips. His back really didn't appreciate hunching over the surface of the table as he searched for something that would tell him where his youngest might be. Looking across the way he flinched at the look of despair in the dark eyes of his eldest. He glanced again at the papers on the table, wanting and needing to continue the search.

Forcing himself to push away he stood up, moving to the other side of the table to lay a hand on Frank's shoulder. The teen flinched but no other acknowledgement was given as he kept his focus on the papers before him. "Come on son, time for a break."

Frank shook off his father's hand. "We can't stop looking."

Fenton grabbed his son's upper arm, forcing the boy to his feet. "We're not stopping Frank but we're both too tired to be effective."

"I can keep looking."

"Really?" Fenton picked up one of the papers from the table, handing it to his son. "What does it say?"

Frank stared at the paper, the letters clearly formed words but he couldn't seem to tell what they were. It was if he had suddenly lost the ability to read English, or maybe the English words had somehow transformed to Greek. Defeated he silently handed the paper back.

Without a word Fenton returned the sheet of paper to the table and drew his son into a tight hug. "We'll find him son."

"Will we?" Frank wanted to believe his father. From the time he was only a little boy he had looked up to his father, for a time seeing him as a superhero. He suspected Joe still sometimes saw him that way. But Frank was growing up and one of the drawbacks of maturity was the realization that his father couldn't fix every problem and sometimes the bad guys won.

"I won't lie to you Frank. It may take a little time but we aren't going to give up on your brother, nor will the FBI. We will find him, no matter how long it takes."

Frank choked on a sob, swallowing it down before it could fully form. He wasn't going to give into despair, that wouldn't help his brother. "But Joe doesn't have time Dad. You know the things Tomlinson is capable of." He glanced down at the table and tried to pull away.

"I know Frank but we're only human and we both need a break." And Fenton did understand how his son felt, didn't he feel it too? He wanted to agree, wanted to return to the search. Who needed food or sleep anyway? Still, he knew they wouldn't help Joe by ignoring their own needs.

"You just don't care," Frank snapped. The pained look in his father's eyes had him instantly regretting his words. "Oh god," he whispered. "I'm sorry Dad, I didn't mean that. Please believe me."

Fenton nodded, pulling the boy close again. "I do Frank, it's alright. I know it's only your frustration talking." Turning the teen towards the door he silently propelled him from the room, down the hall to the bank of elevators.

"We're not leaving?"

"Just for a little while Frank, we both need to rest. If we keep searching we could miss the vital clue we need to find your brother."

Frank nodded; he knew his father was right. "I don't know if I can sleep," he mumbled.

"You don't have to son, just rest and get some food." Fenton suspected the boy would sleep in spite of himself; they were both too exhausted to avoid the inevitable for long.

The next time Joe woke sunlight shone through the window. A small shift and he was instantly aware of a pressing need. Uncertainly he climbed from the bed and left the bedroom. Would Alex be in the other room? Would he punish him for leaving the bedroom? He had to risk it or take a chance on having an embarrassing accident. He didn't know what the older man's reaction to that might be.

Quietly he pulled the door open and stepped into a living room that wasn't much larger than the room he'd just left. To the right he could see a small kitchen area that looked barely big enough to hold one person. There were three doors, the one with a lock obviously led outside. He didn't see Alex anywhere; he supposed the man was in one of the other rooms, probably a bedroom. The other would hopefully contain a bathroom, but which one? Guessing the bathroom would likely lie between the bedrooms Joe made his choice.

He heaved a relieved sigh upon seeing he had chosen correctly. The bathroom was even smaller than the kitchen, consisting of nothing more than a sink, toilet and small shower stall. The only window was open, letting in some fresh air through the screened surface. Seeing the small size it was easy to understand why this window wasn't nailed shut. Joe would have had a hard time fitting through it when he was five, at fifteen he wouldn't even get his shoulders through the small opening.

A few minutes later, business attended to, Joe exited the bathroom. A movement to his left as he closed the door had him jumping in fright.

"I'm sorry pet, I didn't mean to startle you," Alex apologized. "Do you feel better this morning?"

Joe nodded. He didn't trust himself to talk yet. He wasn't sure what was expected of him and that was making him nervous. Unsure of Alex, Joe eased towards the bedroom he had left only a short time ago.

"Why don't you stay out here pet," it was phrased as a request but Alex knew the boy would take it as an order.

Joe sighed and walked over to a recliner sitting near the couch. Easing himself into the recliner he sat on the edge of the seat, ready to bolt if necessary.

Alex frowned. He hated to see Joey so nervous around him but he would have to accept it. He had given the boy more than enough reason to distrust him after all. He would just have to behave as normally as possible and hope the boy would eventually relax in his presence. "What would you like for breakfast pet?"

Joe shrugged. "Not hungry."

"That wasn't the question Joey. I have cereal, bacon and eggs or oatmeal, which will you have?"

"I'm not going to eat and you can't make me," Joe sullenly replied. Inside he winced at the petulant tone, hating the way it made him sound like a five year old.

Alex closed the distance between them, grabbing Joey by the hair he forced his head back and gave him a resounding slap on the cheek. "I care deeply for you pet but I will not be spoken to with disrespect, do you understand me?"

Joe shuddered, forcefully reminded of that day in June. "Yes sir," he whispered. It was the only way he could be sure he wouldn't sound disrespectful.

Alex released the boy's hair and knelt in front of the chair. Smoothing the child's reddened cheek, he sighed deeply. "I'm sorry pet but you have to know there are consequences to your actions. Now," he continued with a smile, "what would you like for breakfast?"

Joe had only been being obstinate before but now he really didn't think he could eat. But he knew that wasn't an option, he would have to eat even if it all came back up afterwards. "Cereal I guess, sir."

"Cereal it is and please pet I want you to call me Alex." As if the past few minutes hadn't happened Alex pushed himself to his feet and left the room.

Joe watched him go before curling up in the recliner. He wanted to run, wanted more than anything to leave this cabin and find his way home. He knew he wouldn't though, what good would it do him to become lost in the woods? And if Alex found him, Joe didn't even want to think about the punishment he would receive if he tried to run. Unless he could figure out the way to help he would just have to work on convincing Alex to let him go home. Joe looked towards the kitchen where Alex was busy slicing bananas for the cereal. He had a very bad feeling he would never convince the man to release him.

TBC...

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	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Joe wearily sat down on the bed and reached for the notebook Alex had given him. He made a mark on the paper, another day gone making it a week since he had been taken from his family. During the past week Joe had searched the cabin, hoping to find something that would tell him where he was. There was nothing in any of the rooms or closets.

He had even checked the root cellar when Alex sent him down through the trapdoor to retrieve some canned vegetables. He had hoped to find another entrance in the cellar, of course there wasn't anything. Joe should have expected that, Alex wouldn't have sent him down had there been another way out and not knowing where he was an exit would have been useless to him.

The only room he hadn't checked was Alex's bedroom. He doubted there would be anything there either but it didn't matter if a clue existed within that room. So far Alex hadn't left the cabin, giving Joe no chance to search the man's room. Joe had considered trying when the man was in the shower but afraid of what would happen if he were caught he decided not to risk it. When Alex emerged from the bathroom a scant ten minutes after entering it Joe was very glad he had decided against searching the bedroom; he would certainly have been caught.

The sound of footsteps caught his attention. With a sigh, Joe pulled back the covers and lay down, pulling the blanket over himself.

Alex smiled at the boy as he came into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing back the hair from Joey's forehead. "All ready for bed pet?"

"Yes Alex," Joe quietly replied. He had learned quickly that failure to use Alex's name would result in small punishments as the man took the failure as a sign of disrespect. It really was no different that calling him sir, though Joe guessed Alex meant for it to seem friendlier.

"Remembered to brush your teeth?"

Joe nodded. Alex asked these same questions every night, it was a strange routine that made him uncomfortable. "Alex will you ever let me go home?"

Alex sighed, it was the same question he heard every night. "You know the answer pet. This is your home now."

"But it isn't Alex." Joe had been trying from the first to convince Alex to let him go. He knew the man, in his own bizarre way, wanted to protect him and if that protection hurt Joe, well that was just too bad. Still he couldn't stop trying to convince his would be protector to return him to his family. He took hold of Alex's hand, squeezing it gently. "I know you want to keep me safe Alex and I really do appreciate it but you can't protect me forever."

"I can."

"By keeping me a prisoner?"

"It won't always be this way pet," Alex assured. "As soon as I can I'll take you someplace where you can be allowed a bit more freedom."

Joe's eyes widened, this was new. "What do you mean? Where would we go?"

"I haven't decided just yet but it will be far from here, a country without any treaties with the U.S. government."

"Aanother country?" Joe stuttered. He hadn't been expecting anything like this. He knew now if he couldn't convince Alex to take him home he would have to run, even if he became lost in the woods. There was always the chance he would find some hikers or another occupied cabin. The point was there would be a chance but if Alex took him to another country, one that wasn't friendly, he would never be able to get away.

"It's the only way Joey," Alex smiled. "I promise you pet, once we are somewhere they can't take you from me I will allow you more freedom."

"More freedom? I don't want more freedom in some other country away from my family. I want to go home, that's all I want and I won't stop wanting it no matter where you take me or what you do."

Alex felt cold. He hadn't expected Joey to be thrilled but he hadn't thought the boy would behave so defiantly. With a heavy heart he stood and began to remove his belt.

Joe jumped from the bed, backing away from Alex. "Please Alex, I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me again, please," he futilely begged.

"Avoidance will only make it worse pet," Alex fairly warned the boy. "I will count to three by which time you will be lying facedown on the bed or suffer the consequences of your defiance."

Joe wanted to run, but he knew he'd never make it out of the room. His legs felt like jelly as he made his way back to the bed, lying down as Alex was about to say three. He braced himself for the blows that were to come. Idly he wondered if the belt would fall on his back with the same force as they had back in June. Would Alex leave his shirt covered in blood again?

The first blow fell, striking Joe on his butt. Though it stung it wasn't nearly as bad as the beatings he had received back in Bayport. In all Alex struck him ten times, leaving his skin red and stinging but there was no blood, for which Joe was grateful. He jumped when the belt crashed against the wall, flung there by Alex.

Hating the pain he had caused his Joey, Alex violently flung the belt aside and sunk to the floor next to the bed. "Please don't make me do that again pet," he whispered to the crying teen. Leaning over he placed a small kiss on the tear stained cheek. "I hate hurting you pet but I will have your obedience and respect, yes?"

Joe swallowed past the fear, "Yes Alex."

Alex sighed, "Is it really so bad that I want to keep you safe?"

"No Alex but…"

"No more pet. You will accept your life."

"But is it living Alex?" Joe risked the question.

"It won't be as bad as you think pet, you'll see." He patted the boy on the back and stood up. "Sleep well Joey."

Joe bit his lip, fighting to hold back his tears until he heard the door to Alex's room close. With the click of the latch he allowed himself to give into fear and despair. He wasn't sure how long he lay there but finally his supply of tears came to an end. Feeling less burdened, the tears somehow lifting a weight from him, he took a deep breath and began to consider his options. Letting Alex take him out of the country wasn't one of them, the trouble was the only other option he could see was leaving the cabin and hoping he chose the right direction. Decision made he began to plan what he would need to take with him.

Joe wished he had someway to tell the time. Without a watch or clock he could only guess how much time had passed. It seemed like it had been a couple of hours but maybe less than an hour had gone by or maybe more time had elapsed and it was nearing dawn. Bracing himself Joe decided he would just have to hope he had chosen a good time for his escape.

He wished he had something other than pajamas to wear but Alex kept all of the clothes in his room, giving Joe a new pair of pajamas each day. Looking down at his feet he frowned at the sight of the slippers, the only footwear he had. Alex obviously thought he wouldn't try to escape without real clothes and shoes. He'd been right too; up until the moment he had told Joe his plans. Knowing the man intended to take him out of the country he knew he couldn't hope to convince Alex to release him. He'd just have to risk traveling through the woods wearing inadequate clothes. At least there was food in the kitchen he could take with him.

Quietly he eased the bedroom door open and tiptoed towards the kitchen. Not daring to turn on the lights Joe gathered food, matches and a can opener by the light of the moon seeping through the window. Placing his supplies in a small duffle bag he'd found in his closet Joe silently made for the front door. It was too dark to see much more than shadows and so the youngest Hardy failed to see the string along the bottom of the door. Had he seen it he would have known his plan was doomed to failure before it began.

The sound of cans rattling jerked Alex awake. Moving instinctively he ran into the front room and to the door in time to see Joey running towards the trees. He had known the boy might try to escape and so had made a habit of sleeping in his clothes with his shoes left by his bedroom door. It had been the work of seconds to slip his feet into the shoes as he opened the bedroom door. Prepared for pursuit it took him no time to chase the child into the woods, catching up to him in less than an eighth of a mile. Taller and wearing proper shoes the outcome of the pursuit had never been in any doubt Alex thought as he grabbed hold of his wayward boy. "Going somewhere pet?"

Joe struggled to break the hold as Alex all but dragged him back to the cabin.

"Stop it!" Alex shook the teen. "You're only making it worse on yourself Joey."

Defeated Joe stopped fighting, letting Alex lead him back to the cabin and inside. The light came on at the same moment Joe was shoved towards the couch. Half falling and half stumbling Joe came to rest in the center of the small sofa. Twisting around he stared up at Alex with fear-filled eyes.

"Give me your slippers."

"What?"

"Your slippers pet, give them to me." Alex nearly growled as the boy only sat staring up at him. Kneeling he grabbed first one foot and then the other, roughly removing the slippers. "Did you really think I wouldn't have some sort of alarm set up?"

"I just want to go home."

"That isn't going to happen Joey," Alex growled. "I'll be keeping these in my room from now on," he said, indicating the slippers. He didn't think the boy would be foolish enough to try running again without any protection for his feet, especially now that he knew there was an alarm set up. "Do I need to lock you in your room pet to keep you from putting yourself in danger?"

"No Alex," Joe mumbled. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape from the cabin. He would just have to hope his dad found him before Alex took him out of the country. The only other chance he'd have would be escaping at the airport and somehow he suspected Alex would have a plan to prevent that.

Alex stared at the boy with hard eyes. He wanted to believe him but did he dare? He supposed he could afford to be a little generous. "Alright pet, I'll give you one more chance. Try to run again and I'll make sure you regret it."

"Yes sir."

"This doesn't mean you won't be punished for tonight. Just as I won't allow anybody else to hurt you I won't let you hurt yourself."

Joe bit his lip. He wanted to point out Alex's hypocrisy but his sense of self-preservation kicked in just in time. "I'm sorry Alex."

Alex smiled, running his fingers through Joey's hair. "I know this is difficult for you pet but you need to trust me to take care of you. I don't like hurting you so let's try something a little different, hmmm? You will remain in your room tomorrow, leaving only to use the bathroom and you will go the day without food. Run again and I won't hesitate to whip you to within an inch of your life, no matter how it pains me. Do you understand pet?"

"Yes Alex." Joe didn't dare to argue. It wouldn't be fun to go a whole day without eating but it was a thousand times better than the beating he'd been expecting.

"I think for tonight," Alex continued, "I'll have you sleep in my room. I know you won't sneak out if you're in my bed." Tomorrow he would add a lock to Joey's door to ensure he didn't attempt another escape.

Joe felt his blood run cold. His captor had sworn he wasn't like Red but what if that had been a lie? Was the escape attempt just an excuse to force him into…Joe shivered, he didn't want to think about that. "I won't try to run again Alex, I promise."

"Don't worry pet you'll have your room back tomorrow," Alex smiled. "But I must sleep too and I won't if I'm worried about you trying to run again." He stood up, pulling Joey to his feet. He had a feeling he knew what the child was worried about. It hurt him to think the boy didn't trust his word, after all he had never lied to him, but he supposed he could understand. Well there was nothing like experience to dispel a person's fears.

A lump of dread settled in his stomach as Joe found himself being led into Alex's room. He didn't want to be here, in this cabin and certainly not in Alex's bed; unfortunately he didn't have any real choice. Arguing would only get him into more trouble and with Alex already angry with him he didn't dare risk angering him further.

The room looked a lot like his, surprising Joe. Somehow he had expected it to be more luxurious not the same plain austerity of the other bedroom. The ball of dread grew with each step closer to the bed until Joe could barely breathe for the pressure; still he let Alex pull him forward.

Alex lay down, pulling Joey with him. Stretching out he wrapped one arm around the boy, pulling him close while with the other he brought the blankets up over the two of them. "Sleep pet, nothing will happen I promise."

Joe wasn't sure how long he lay awake. His body was as tight as a bow string, anticipating a horror he couldn't truly imagine. Joe was both surprised and relieved when nothing happened, just as Alex had promised. Eventually Joe drifted to sleep, not waking again until sunlight streamed through the window filling the room with light.

TBC...

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	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Richard Tomlinson lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling. It was hard to believe the child he and Annaleise had rejoiced in could have become nothing more than a cold-blooded killer, preying upon innocent children. He couldn't help wondering how things would have been different if Annaleise hadn't given into her depression.

Alex had blamed him for his mother's death of course. Richard had done all he could to make him see the truth; the trouble was he blamed himself as much if not more than Alex did. He had noticed his wife's withdrawal from friends and the activities she had once enjoyed but he had told himself Annaleise was only busy with her practice. If only he had done something, confronted her, insisted she get help, maybe she would still be with them and Alex wouldn't have gone as bad as any man could.

Turning his head he faced the nightstand where sat his favorite photograph of his wife, taken only months before her death, she looked so happy you would never guess the depth of her depression. "I'm so sorry darling. I failed you and our son. I should never have sent him away as I did. If out positions had been reversed you would have kept him by your side, helping him to deal with his pain and grief. If only," Richard barked a bitter laugh. "I remember you telling me once those were the two most useless words in the English language but you forgot to mention they're also the saddest."

Richard traced his fingers over his wife's smiling face. He remembered the happier days of their earlier marriage, before work and family responsibilities stole away their time together. When Annaleise succumbed to her despair he had been lost and filled with guilt. Alex had blamed him as well and it had been more than he could handle. It was for this reason he had sent his son away to that place, sending him right into the arms of Gary Wyndham. Richard knew Alex had been the leader of the pair but he liked to think that without Wyndham his son's anger and grief would have found a healthier outlet.

Richard jerked upright. Had he told Agent Martin about it? He didn't think he had. Throwing back the covers he grabbed his robe and headed downstairs to the computer. As he waited for the machine to power up he paced the study, his thoughts in a whirl. He needed to be sure before he contacted Martin. "Finally," he breathed as the computer completed its startup. Sliding into the chair he began searching through the files, paying particular attention to the files that had been copied for the FBI. It wasn't there! How could he have forgotten? No matter, the important thing was he had remembered now he could only hope Alex and the Hardy child would be there.

Jack groaned at the sound of the phone ringing. Silently cursing whoever it was he promised they would regret disturbing his sleep for anything less than an earth shattering matter. Eyes clouded by sleep he fumbled for the phone, "Hello," he growled.

"Agent Martin?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"This is Richard Tomlinson, I think I may know where my son is."

Fully awake Jack sat up, "What did you say?"

"I think I know where Alex is," Richard repeated.

"I'm listening."

"I was thinking about Alex, regretting mistakes," Richard shook his head, "but that isn't important. Thoughts of Alex led to thoughts of Wyndham and I suddenly remembered something, a cabin my son bought for Wyndham."

"A cabin? Why didn't you tell us about this before?"

"I had honestly forgotten. The cabin was in Wyndham's name and when he died without any sort of will it naturally went to his nearest relative. I know they were trying to sell it but due to the association with Wyndham that hasn't been easy. As far as I know it hasn't been sold and is sitting empty, more importantly it is quite secluded."

"Do you know where it is?" Jack had paper and pencil ready, sleep forgotten in the wake of Tomlinson's information.

"Yes, not only do I know the address I have a detailed map of the area."

"How soon can you meet me at headquarters?" Jack was thinking about who he would need to call in. He hoped the Hardys had gone home; he really didn't want to waste time arguing with them. Connections with higher ups or not there was no way he was bringing civilians on an operation like this.

"I'm already printing the maps I assume you'll want so I could be there within the hour."

Jack nodded. It would give him time to gather a team. There wasn't much they could do in terms of planning without more detailed information but having the team in place and ready to go would save valuable time. "I'll see you then Mr. Tomlinson."

An hour before dawn the team was gathered outside the small cabin which had belonged to Gary Wyndham. A scan with thermal imaging equipment showed two people, both appeared to be in prone positions. Considering the time they were probably asleep.

Quietly he issued orders and one of his men crept up to the cabin, peeking into the windows. In a short time he returned, confirming the presence of Alex Tomlinson and Joe Hardy. Fortunately the two were in separate rooms, with any luck they would be able to get into the cabin before Tomlinson had a chance to come fully awake.

Unfortunately Tomlinson must have expected them to find the cabin, or perhaps he'd only feared it, at any rate he had set up booby traps. None were deadly but they were noisy with the result that when one was inadvertently tripped the occupants of the cabin were awakened.

Joe jerked awake, jumping when the door to his room was flung open. "What is it?"

"I don't know, hopefully just a bear or something. Stay here," Alex tersely ordered. Pulling the door closed he moved to the windows of the main room. He had kept the lights off and so his eyes took little time to adjust as he peered out into the night. "Damn," he cursed. He grabbed a rifle and using the butt he soon had a pane of glass broken. Seconds later he was firing towards the men gathered in the woods.

Joe jumped as shots rang out, destroying the peaceful silence of the woods. Leaping from the bed he ran to the door and carefully opened it. He didn't want to risk startling Alex after all. "Alex…"

"I told you to stay in the bedroom pet," Alex snapped. "Never mind, come here." It had suddenly occurred to him that now would be an opportunity for Joey to escape through the window in his bedroom.

Joe wanted to refuse but he had learned the hard way what disobedience would bring. Reluctantly he crept into the living room, moving to stand just behind Alex. Peering past him he could see men moving about. "They've found us," he whispered.

Alex frowned. He could hear the relief in Joey's voice. If only he'd had more time or had simply taken the boy out of the country to begin with; he sighed, it was too late for regrets. "I can't let them take you from me pet. I can't keep you safe if you go back."

Joe laid his hand on Alex's back. "Alex they won't let you leave here with me and…I want to go home. Please Alex let me go home."

Alex turned, staring into the child's deep blue eyes. "I promised I would protect you pet, how can I do that if you go home and I go to prison?"

"How can you keep me safe if you have a shoot out with the police?"

"You'd be safe in the cellar," Alex pointed out. "Eventually they'd…"

"Alex please let me go home. I appreciate what you tried to do, I really do but this isn't the way. I think you knew that when you started." Joe waited for Alex to respond but the older man remained silent. "You had to know I wouldn't want you to kill to protect me."

Alex smiled sadly. "I knew you wouldn't like it but they shouldn't have hurt you pet. You're a special boy Joey, you didn't deserve the things they said and did."

Joe shrugged, he knew Alex thought of him as special but Joe had never seen himself the same way. "Nobody deserves to die for saying mean things and I'm learning to deal with them." Joe chanced a glance out the window; he could see men moving into position. He wondered if his father was out there; he hoped not. "You say you don't want others to hurt me."

"I don't."

"But you're hurting me Alex. Don't you see that? How can it not hurt to know others have died so you could protect me? How can I feel good about you taking me from my family? "

Alex looked into Joe's eyes; they were so like his own mother's eyes. The color was wrong but the pain and compassion were as strong as what he had witnessed as a child. In that instant he realized that if his plan succeeded Joey would eventually leave him just as his mother had. "I care deeply for you pet, never think otherwise."

"I know Alex," Joe whispered.

Alex drew a small device from his pocket.

"What is that?"

"I can't take you from them, no matter how much I want to. I see that now."

"Maybe they won't send you to prison." Joe wasn't sure prison was the right answer for Alex. The man had done some terrible things but they weren't things sane people did. Maybe they could convince a judge to send him somewhere he could get help.

"I'm not going to prison pet, I couldn't survive it."

Joe didn't like the sound of that. "Then what…"

Alex drew Joey close. "You're special pet, more than you could ever understand. I hope someday you'll find somebody who will appreciate you as you were meant to be." He glanced out the window, they were moving closer. Shifting position he made sure neither he nor Joey could be seen from outside. "I'm going to send you out to them in a minute pet. You'll be going back to your family just as you wanted."

"What about you?"

Alex held up the device. "This will ensure an end to me pet."

"What? No you can't do that Alex. Please let them help you. I don't want anybody else to die for me," Joe begged.

Alex kissed the top of Joey's head. "I would die no matter what pet. They won't let me off with only a prison sentence this time. At least this way I'll go out on my own terms." Turning the boy he pushed him towards the door. "I'm going to tell them you're coming out."

"What if I refuse?"

Alex laughed, he couldn't help it. "You won't refuse pet and do you know why?"

Joe shook his head.

"Because if you refuse we all die; you, me and as many of them as I can take with us."

Joe stared at the older man, he had no doubt he meant every word he said.

"Be ready pet and you should probably tell them to move away from the cabin if they don't want to die." Turning back towards the window Alex yelled into the night, warning the officers that their kidnapping victim was coming outside alone. "You have three minutes to get them away from the cabin pet. If any of them try to come towards it I'll hit the detonator."

Jack Martin held up his hand, signaling to his men to hold their positions. Seconds after Tomlinson called out to them the door opened and Joe Hardy walked out onto the porch and hurried down the steps. Jack rushed forward, grabbing the boy and pulling him towards the trees. "Are you alright?"

Joe nodded, "You have to get everybody back."

"What?" Jack asked in a strangled voice. He had been about to give the order to rush the cabin.

"Explosives," was the simple response.

Eyes wide Jack waved his men away from the cabin. As they fell back to a distance of 500 feet the silence was destroyed by a massive explosion. Instinctively everybody present fell to the ground, covering their heads with their hands. When they looked up all that was left of the cabin was smoldering wreckage.

TBC...

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	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Joe stared at the remains of the cabin, even knowing what Alex had planned; what it would mean hadn't fully registered until now. He understood that the man hadn't been a good person but he wasn't evil either, not the way Joe thought of evil. Alex had wanted to help but he had chosen the wrong way to go about it. Joe wondered what could have been if Alex hadn't been damaged by his mother's suicide.

He wasn't sure how long he sat staring at the wreckage but finally he became aware of a hand on his shoulder. Looking to the side he saw Agent Martin eyeing him with concern. "What?"

"Are you alright? Did Tomlinson hurt you?"

Joe shook his head. There had been a couple of spankings and a few slaps but compared to the day that started it all they were nothing. "Is my dad here?" he asked though he knew the answer must be no. Had his father been here he would have been by Joe's side already.

"No, I didn't tell him about the operation."

"He won't like that."

Jack smirked. "He'll get over it." Frankly he didn't care whether or not Fenton Hardy liked being sidelined. The man was a civilian and the father of their victim; he had no business here at the culmination of the investigation. Besides they hadn't known what they would find, the possibility of finding the child dead had been a very real one and he would never subject a parent to that scenario if he could avoid it.

Jack looked towards the cabin, or what was left of it, watching his men searching the perimeter. Searching the wreckage itself wouldn't be possible until it had cooled down. "Joe, was there any way out of the cabin besides the front door?"

"No sir, well the windows but they were nailed shut."

"Are you absolutely certain there wasn't any other way out?" The cabin had been surrounded by his team and so Jack knew Tomlinson couldn't have gotten out through any of the windows without being seen.

"The only thing besides the main cabin was a root cellar but the only entrance was a trapdoor in the floor."

"How do you know that?"

"Alex had me get food from there." Joe shivered lightly and a coat was wrapped around his shoulders. He smiled shyly at the agent who had given up his jacket. "I think he wanted me to see there was no way out."

Jack nodded. "That makes sense. Was there anybody else in the cabin?"

"Just him and me."

Remembering that the man had already faked his death once Jack needed to be as sure as he could be that any body they found was that of Alex Tomlinson. Glancing at the cabin he mentally corrected himself; make that body parts. "Joe I need you to be completely honest with me…"

"I'm not going to lie," Joe quickly protested. He might have realized that Alex needed help, might not believe he had been evil, but that didn't mean he would lie to protect him.

"Alright, calm down," Jack soothed. "I need to know something and it might be a little upsetting to think about."

"Okay," Joe hesitantly agreed to answer whatever questions Agent Martin asked.

"You said he sent you into the root cellar, did you see any other parts of the cabin?"

"The whole thing." How was that supposed to upsetting Joe wondered.

Jack thought that was a little convenient but decided not to say anything. "So you would know if there had been any bodies hidden in the cabin?"

"Bodies?" Joe shuddered. "Why would there be…that doesn't make sense."

"If he wanted to fake his death, that" Jack motioned towards the cabin, "wouldn't leave much for identification."

Joe turned to look, shuddering at the thought of Alex being torn apart by the explosion that had destroyed the cabin. "There weren't any."

"Are you sure? He could have hidden something in a closet or cabinet," Jack suggested.

Joe shook his head. "I would have seen it." He gagged at the thought, "And it would have smelled by now, wouldn't it?"

That was a good point Jack conceded. "You're right, I hadn't thought of that."

Joe pulled the jacket closer, huddling in on himself. "Can I go home now?"

Jack smiled and stood up. Reaching down he offered the boy a hand. "I think that can be arranged." His team knew what they were doing; they didn't need him here to supervise their search. Considering the wisps of smoke rising from the wreckage it would likely be several hours before they could complete the search. He prayed the boy was right and that Tomlinson would have had no means of escaping the destruction of the building.

Joe let himself be pulled to his feet. He looked back once as they walked away from the cabin. The fate of the man who had tried to protect him left him with a deep sadness. He would keep that to himself, he decided, he doubted anybody else would understand. Turning away he followed Agent Martin through the woods to the vehicles parked a few hundred feet away. Climbing into the passenger seat of the indicated sedan, Joe leaned back, letting his head fall against the headrest. As they drove away he closed his eyes, focusing his thoughts on home.

Shortly after nine a.m. Jack Martin pulled to a stop in front of the local hospital. He had considered driving to the Hardy home first but the child should be checked out. No matter that Joe had said he wasn't hurt he had spent more than a week in the company of a man who had hurt plenty of children, Joe included, and he should be checked by a qualified professional.

"Why are we here?" Joe looked up at Bayport General. "I told you I'm not hurt."

"It's procedure Joe," Jack replied. "Besides I've met your mother, do you really think she wouldn't insist you be checked out?"

Joe chuckled weakly. He knew the FBI agent was right, he only hoped they wouldn't make him have another one of those exams, he shuddered at the thought.

"Come on, I'll get you settled in and then call your parents."

"He didn't touch me," Joe whispered.

"What?"

"Alex, he never…will you tell them I don't need one of those exams?"

Jack looked into frightened blue eyes, suddenly understanding what the boy was asking. "If he did you shouldn't try to hide it. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"It's not that," Joe blushed. "He really didn't do anything…they," Joe swallowed past the lump in his throat. "After that day, in June, they made me have one of those exams. It was humiliating and scary; I don't want to go through that again. Please can't you tell them I don't need one?"

As a federal agent Jack had been taught to keep a certain distance from crime victims, often it was the only way a man could do his job. Looking into the soulful eyes of a boy who had already been hurt as much by the system as by anybody else any semblance of professional detachment flew out the window. "I'll tell them Joe," he promised.

The car had barely stopped when Laura and Frank threw open their doors. Fenton didn't bother to admonish them, it wouldn't have done any good and if he were honest he would have done the same if he could have. In the few seconds it took to bring the car to a full stop, turn off the ignition and climb from the vehicle his wife was half-way to the entrance with Frank only a few steps behind her. Fenton pushed the door shut, keyed the remote and hurried to catch up to them.

"Mrs. Hardy," Jack called as he saw the woman rush through the emergency room doors.

Laura spun on her heel, "Where's my son?"

"Back there," Jack gestured towards the exam rooms. "Where's…" the question died in his throat as the rest of the family came through the doors.

"How badly is he hurt?" Fenton asked the one question on all their minds.

"Not bad at all," Jack quickly assured the worried family. "The doctor has already examined him and cleared him to go home. Joe only has a few welts and bruises, but nothing serious."

"And Tomlinson didn't…" Laura couldn't complete the question, just the thought made her sick.

"No ma'am, absolutely not," Jack had taken Joe at his word on that and with the suspect likely dead he was able to convince the doctor to skip the sexual assault exam. He knew he'd catch hell for that decision if Tomlinson turned up alive but it was a risk he was willing to take if it would save the boy one more trauma.

Laura leaned into Fenton's embrace, "Thank God," she whispered.

"Can we see him?" Frank impatiently interrupted. He didn't guess the agent would lie to them but he needed to see for himself that Joe was alright.

"Just a minute." Jack walked away, returning in less than a minute with a nurse by his side.

Fenton stood back, letting Laura and Frank leave with the nurse. He had one more question for Agent Martin. "What happened to Tomlinson?"

"He's dead."

Fenton wanted to feel relieved but they had thought that before. "And if he isn't?"

"He is Mr. Hardy." Jack went on to explain everything that had happened, including Joe's assertion that there had been nobody else in the cabin with him and Tomlinson, dead or alive. "There was no way the man could have gotten out of the cabin without being seen and nobody could have survived that explosion."

"So it's really over?"

"It's over Mr. Hardy," Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "Go see your son Fenton, there's nothing more for you to do."

Fenton nodded and walked through the doors. Finding Joe wasn't difficult, he had only to follow the sound their voices as Laura and Frank assured themselves that Joe was in fact safe. Stepping into the room he smiled at the sight of his family together and whole.

Epilogue:

Joe had, in the immediate aftermath, backslid a bit. His therapist had assured the teen it was to be expected and shouldn't be a cause for concern. Joe wasn't sure he believed her but she had helped him before and he knew he could trust her to do so again. Some of the kids at school had said things but most of them had been sympathetic. Those few who had attempted to tease and bully him had been quickly and effectively silenced by whoever was nearby. It seemed the student body of Bayport High had grown up some too; none of them would ever be quite as innocent as they had once been. The one student who had surprised him the most was Bradley Cooper himself.

Joe had spent the first two weeks following Alex's death at home. Physically he could have attended classes with no trouble but both Diane and his parents felt he would benefit from a little breathing space. Joe couldn't argue with them. The thought of facing the other kids had terrified him. When he finally returned the first person to approach him, after Chet and Biff, was Brad Cooper.

Biff and Chet stepped in front of Joe, forming a protective barrier between him and the boy who had bullied him in the past.

Brad held up his hands in a universal gesture of peace, "You got nothing to worry about guys. I just want to talk to Joe."

The two teens turned to Joe who hesitantly nodded. Moving aside they allowed Brad to approach, though each stood flanking their friend, ready to defend him if necessary.

Joe smiled at them, appreciating the support. "What do you want Cooper?"

Brad sighed; he couldn't blame Joe for his anger. "I just wanted to apologize. The things we said, it wasn't right and it wasn't fair. You didn't ask for what happened to you, nobody would and we shouldn't have given you a hard time. I don't expect us to ever be friends, but I hope someday you can forgive me and them for the way we treated you."

Joe held out his hand, clearly surprising the other boy. "I think everybody has suffered enough, don't you?"

With a grateful smile Brad took the offered hand, shaking it warmly.

The months following his return to school hadn't always been easy; he hadn't expected them to be. Now, though, at the end of the year Joe felt like he could call himself recovered. Well as recovered as he ever would be. Diane had warned him that while he had healed from the ordeal it had changed him; never again would he be the boy he had been before that horrible day in June. Still he left school that day, at the beginning of another summer, confident in his ability to focus on the future in spite of the horror that would always be a part of him.

The End.

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